


The Peculiar Adventures of AntiMatter and Nightmare

by water_poet



Series: The Peculiar Adventures [1]
Category: Natepat - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Game Theorists, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Matpat - Freeform, Mild Language, Natepat, Nathan Sharp - Freeform, Non-Explicit Sex, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 37,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/water_poet/pseuds/water_poet
Summary: Nathan Sharp and Matthew Patrick are college dorm mates who are maybe a little more than friends.Nightmare and AntiMatter are archenemies who flirt with each other nonstop.Chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

Nate couldn't have cared less what time it was when he stumbled through the door to his dorm and collapsed onto the lower bunk, heaving a huge sigh. The mattress creaked underneath him, and the pesky rogue spring he could never seem to fix poked him in the thigh. He was so damn tired he barely noticed.

Shifting his head, he glanced towards the window. It was mostly black outside, with a hint of purple streaking across the horizon to indicate the sun. Nate groaned. the sun meant school, and the last thing he wanted was to move, much less go take a calculus quiz. Burying his face in his sheets that were sorely in need of washing, he closed his eyes and willed away the school day.

A click sounded as a lamp snapped on. "Nate? You up?"

The dark haired man groaned, grabbing his pillow and clamping it over his ears. Through his fluffy barrier he heard a loud sigh and a soft thump as Matt jumped down from the top bunk. His roommate placed a hand on Nate's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Are you okay? What the heck were you doing out so late?"

Still unwilling to give a verbal response, Nate shrugged, wincing as his shoulder ached. He'd have a bruise by the afternoon, that was for sure.

Matt suddenly brushed his shoulder, and he yelped in pain.

"Fuck! Don't touch that!" he snapped, sitting up and knocking Matt's hand away. His roommate held up his hands in a surrender position. "Sorry, sorry" he said defensively, before lowering his hands and yawning. Nate could see the dark circles under Matt's eyes, most likely the result of staying up all night studying for some AP class or memorizing lines for the next production.

"Where have you been?" Matt asked.

"I've been here! I just went to get something from Hunter and fell down the stairs, that's all" Nate insisted.

That wasn't entirely true, but he didn't feel like elaborating.

Matt sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, pushing his hair up and making his most exasperated expression. Nate rolled his eyes. His roommate often felt less like a friend and more like an overprotective mother, what with his constant reminders to study, chore lists, and his annoying habit of always making sure Nate was eating enough and in one piece.

"Geez, Nate, you're the clumsiest person I've ever met. Take off your shirt and let me see" Matt commanded, crossing his arms over his Legend of Zelda T-shirt. Ignoring the fact that that shirt was _his_ , Nate moaned and obeyed, pulling off his shirt and shifting slightly so Matt could see his injured shoulder. Matt knelt down and looked closer, whistling through his teeth as he examined the red blotch, which was quickly shifting to a delightfully sickening shade of purple and green.

"Some fall" he remarked after a couple moments, rising and making his way to the freezer. "Looks more like you got slammed into a brick wall" he added, scooping a few handfuls of ice cubes into a plastic bag and bringing the makeshift icepack back to Nate. The black haired man swallowed, and managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, right" he shot back. How did Matt always know? Maybe he had superpowers, too.

He accepted the bag and pressed it to his shoulder, ignoring the biting cold and sudden ache as pressure was applied to the quickly swelling bruise. Matt stood over him for a few moments, his brown eyes darting over the scene as if deciding whether or not to further interrogate him.

"Can I help you?" Nate asked finally.

Matt flashed a grin. "Go back to sleep and be more careful on the stairs. Bruises are one thing, but I won't be paying for any hospital bills" he joked, although they both knew he probably would.

Nate rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh, flopping back onto the bed. "Sure, thanks mom"

Matt offered no reply beyond a light chuckle, hoisting himself back into his own bunk. Nate closed his eyes and listened as Matt shifted around rustling the sheets above him. he heard with perfect clarity as his roommate stilled. The gentle thudding of his heartbeat slowed along with his breathing, until he finally fell back asleep. Only then did Nate allow himself do the same.

In the distance, sirens wailed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Confidential Persons Files**

**Subject 97T**

_**Subject is considered a danger to the average persons** _

_**DO NOT ENGAGE** _

**Name: Nathan "Nate" Sharp**

**Alias: Nightmare**

**Enhancements: Hypnotic control through sounds waves, sonic fields projected via voice**

**Hair: Black**

**Eyes: Brown**

**Height: Unknown**

**Weight: Unknown**

**Notable Characteristics: Black spacers in both ears, dimples**

**Costume: Usually black, with face paint and deep blue wig**

**Crimes: Petty theft, hostage situations, vandalism**

**Threat level*: 7**

**Additional comments: Known for cocky nature and brash ideas. Has never actually killed anyone**

**Allies: The Hunter (see file 34T)**

**Enemies: Professor W, AntiMatter**

* * *

**Confidential Persons Files**

**Subject 94S**

_**Subject is considered a danger to the average persons** _

_**ENGAGE WITH CAUTION** _

**Name: Matthew "Matt" Patrick**

**Alias: AntiMatter**

**Enhancements: Telekinesis, Flight, Enhanced IQ**

**Hair: Brown**

**Eyes: Brown**

**Height: Unknown**

**Weight: Unknown**

**Notable Characteristics: Cleft chin**

**Costume: Green suit and top hat, red mask**

**Crimes: N/A**

**Threat level*: 5**

**Additional comments: Very little physical fighting; eloquent**

**Allies: Professor W (No file available)**

**Enemies: Nightmare, The Hunter**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Matt contemplates his life, and Nate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note I have never been to LA in my whole life.

LA was decently normal, as it were.

It was as big as most California cities, packed to the brim with every kind of weirdo imaginable.

It was always a little too hot, and no one ever seemed to have reached their destination. There was always somewhere else to go, someone else to meet.

Normal, yes. Yes and no.

LA had superheroes.

Enhanced, mutants, whatever the paper had decided to call them that day.

Admittedly, no one was really sure how or where the supers came from, or got their powers. The records of the first heroes were buried so deep in government records and data tests that not a soul cared to dig them up. Superheroes were just sort of part of life, nowadays.

The best explanations were somewhere along the lines of mutations, or one of a kind glitches in genetic makeup. Another thick stack of data buried among records that no one had any desire to find, much less read, them. The radicals would insist it was Satan, or God, or aliens.

But regardless, superheroes existed.

Very little information was released to the public about the supers' organization, or The League. It had been named before companies had to struggle to be creative. Only a few scientists and government elected officials had actually seen the headquarters, and even fewer had met the League members themselves. And nobody, elected of otherwise, had ever met Professor W, the leader of the League for the past 200 years. Immortal? Unlikely. More often than not, the accepted explanation was a sophisticated AI, or a job passed down through the years.

The job of the League was simple, at least the parts of it they revealed. Protect and keep the peace. They kept spotless records of all powered persons to ever reveal themselves, and some who had not. Powers, alias', etc., all listed and sorted in neat rows of black ink. When supers retired, they were given a spot on the council until their death.

Of course, all could not be as it seemed among the world of the enhanced. For every great hero, there existed a villain.

More or less. No one was really counting.

They had no League, no leader, no system. They fought for themselves, forming packs like wolves and taking what they wanted when they wanted it. Crime lords controlled their actions, holding some of the desperate ones on a leash made of cash. Some were insane. Others were radical.

Most were just annoying.

That was what Matt always said, whenever he had to stop a bank robbery in favor of his homework.

It wasn't that he didn't want to help. After all, his powers weren't much good for anything else. But he was in college, and that was enough of a fight as was.

Matt sometimes wondered if putting "part-time hero of your city" on his resume might get him a few more job interviews. 

That was probably a bad idea, and W wouldn't exactly be happy, but it might get him a better job than the GameStop salesperson.

It was Monday morning, which meant Nate was still asleep and Matt was at his early morning AP calculus class that he didn't need but still took. As he'd often explained to Nate, he wanted to be an actor, and his backup plan was neurosurgeon. Nate would roll his eyes and sigh, and Matt couldn't really blame him.

Chewing the end of his pencil, he wondered if Nate was still asleep. Probably. 

He worried about his roommate's shoulder. It wasn't exactly life threatening, but Matt was more concerned with how he'd acquired it. He certainly hadn't gotten it tripping on the stairs. The anxious side of his personality wondered if Nate was off doing drugs or something else equally irresponsible and dangerous.

Then again, Nate wasn't _that_ nutty.

At least, he hoped not.

For a man who usually had all the answers, Nate was a big question mark in Matt's life. He was loud, and sometimes obnoxious. He made stupid puns and ridiculous jokes that Matt laughed at anyway. He wore graphic tees and combat boots and gauges. A punk, a rocker, a weirdo.

But he was also quiet. Matt would lie awake listening to the humming coming from the bottom bunk. He would catch glimpses of Nate in the library, doodling or scribbling the lyrics of a newly thought song. When Matt was excited, Nate would smile. He'd taught him the Pokémon theme song on the guitar once, after Matt had begged him for days. Rolling his eyes and grumbling, he put his hands on Matt's and taught him the chords. Matt was fast learner.

He could never quite forget those few hours.

The bell rang, cutting through his reminiscing. Blinking, Matt stuffed everything back into his bag and hurried out of the classroom before his professor could lecture him for spacing out during the middle of class. He'd get the notes from Jon later.

Nate also thought Matt was crazy, but he liked him anyway.

In the midst of the morning conundrum that plagues every decent and not-so-decent school, a student toppled out a second story window into a hedge row while trying to perform an experiment before reading the instructions. Surprisingly, it wasn't Mark, or Jack, for that matter. The poor kid wasn't hurt badly, but an ambulance was called on the campus anyway.

So Nate woke to his least favorite sound in the world: the pervasive whine of sirens approaching.

The part-time super villain toppled out of his bed and hit the floor with a loud thud, his injured shoulder smacking the wooden floor of the dorm. He yelled something rather profane and scrambled to his feet, hands balled into fists and teeth clenched.

"I didn't do it, I swear!"

The sirens had stopped, and the room was empty. Nate wanted to smack his head against the wall for being such and idiot. He wondered how Matt put up with him.

Then again, he put up with that goody two shoes, so in all fairness, they were even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated in forever! But know that I see your kudos and it mean sososo much to me! Love you all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Matt continues his contemplation

Matt's campus was sprawling and surprisingly green for its location. There were two gyms, a theatre, and a pool. The classrooms were all equipped with the latest technology they could afford. From the windows of the bio labs on the sixth floor, and the seventh floor art studio, it was possible to see a rather attractive stretch of the city, and the ocean glimmering against the skyline. Most of the professors seemed to enjoy their jobs well enough, and aside from a handful of stupidity-related incidents, like the aforementioned window fall, the campus remained calm and running smoothly. All things considered, it was _normal_.

Except for the bunkers.

They had been installed roughly twenty years prior by order of the government after a rogue super went insane and cost the city more lives in a single day than had ever been recorded before the officials and The League could apprehend them.

A great deal of those massacres had been on the campus Matt now attended.

The rogue had been a student, after all. She was dead now, and neither the cause of her insanity or subsequent death was ever been determined.

Nevertheless, the bunkers had been installed shortly afterwards, in hopes that such a loss would never occur again. As was customary, a monument had also been erected, engraved with the names of the victims.

But that had been over twenty years ago. Matt was barely born when it had happened. Even so, he could never quite shake that uncomfortable feeling whenever he had to walk by the towering, weathered monument.

_"With great power comes great responsibility, Matthew"_

_"That's from the Spider-Man movies, dad"_

_"That doesn't make it any less true"_

Shaking his head and shivering, Matt adjusted the straps of his backpack and hurried back to his dorms. He hoped Nate was awake.

* * *

Nate was, in fact, awake, still nursing his bruised shoulder from where it had hit the floor. He would certainly have a nastier mark by the next evening, and he thanked his lucky stars it was fall, and he wouldn't be wearing tank tops or going to the pool any time soon. He'd rather not have to explain the cause of his sudden injury to his friends.

_"Oh, I got punched by AntiMatter and then fell off my bunk thinking the police were after me"_

Not a great conversation starter.

With a disgruntled sigh, Nate flopped into his desk chair and opened his laptop, hoping to finish editing the recording for his latest project before Matt came back. He hated to play around Matt. His finger would shake and he could never seem to hit the right notes with those big brown eyes watching his every move intently, shining and smiling as he struggled with his guitar strings.

Before he could even log in, however, the dorm door opened and Matt bustled in, lugging his backpack behind him. He grinned to see Nate awake, still bleary eyes and sporting a messy bedhead, now thoroughly annoyed that he would have to put off the project for another time. Why did Matt have to be so damn distracting? With his stupid fluff of hair and stupid innocent eyes and stupid, _stupid_ sweet little smile. 

"Glad to see you're finally up. You taking the day off?" Matt asked cheerfully, dumping the contents of his bag out onto their dinner table.

"Yeah, actually. My only class got canceled, so I'm good for the rest of the day"

"Cool. I have general bio at one, so I've got some time to kill" Matt added, propping his bag against the bunk bed before turning to enter the kitchen. Nate could hear him fumbling about with drawers and silverware. Before he could ask, Matt's voice came loudly from the small room.

"Donuts?"

Nate's head perked up. "You had donuts and you didn't tell me? Fuck you, Matt" he said, nearly falling out of his chair as he scrambled for the kitchen. A large white box of donuts from the local bakery near the campus was propped open. Matt rolled his eyes as Nate fell on the pastries, grabbing both chocolate frosted donuts before Matt could tease him about it.

"You're hungry" he commented finally, taking a donut of his own.

Nate swallowed his rather large bite. "I didn't get to eat last night"

Matt groaned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Nate, I've told you. You need to eat"

"I know, I know. I'm busy"

Another disgruntled sigh.

"You're impossible some days, you know?"

Nate grinned cheekily in a way that made Matt's face grow curiously warm. "You know you love me"

"Shut up, nerd. You wish"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these past chapters have been really slow, and they're not my best. Next chapter we should be getting into some good stuff, and I'm hoping to upload over holiday break. Thanks for bearing with me, and keep a look out for upcoming oneshots! Love y'all!


	5. Chapter 5

Nate's wrist buzzed as his watch sounded a silent alarm. It was time, but Matt was still there, typing away at his essay, keyboard clicking irritatingly under his finger tips.  
Nate bit his lip, trying to think of a way to get Matt out. He eyes strayed to the fridge, where several sticky notes were posted in various spots on the stainless steel surface. One read, in hasty black scribbles, "get bio from Mark".

"Uh, Matt?"

"Mmhm?"

"Didja ever get that biology homework from Mark?"

The clicking paused, and Matt let out a groan.

  
"Shoot, I forgot" he grumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk bed and slipping down. He wrestled his shoes and a campus hoodie on, heading for the door.

  
"Don't burn the dorm down while I'm gone" he said casually.

  
Nate mock-saluted, leaning further back against his chair. "Will not do, boss" he replied, smirking as the door shit behind Matt.

  
No sooner had the lock clicked when Nate scrambled to his feet and threw open his side of their shared closet. Digging under a pile of t-shirts, he found his prize.  
He couldn't change here, there were security cameras. He darted into the tiny ribcage shower, donning his black outfit and dark blue wig. Makeup, gloves, all that jazz. He had the system figured out. Throwing up his hood so the security wouldn't be too suspicious, he darted out the door and was off campus as quickly and lightly as a shadow.

  
The dorm door opened. "I've got it! Thanks for reminding - "

  
Matt frowned as he scanned the suddenly empty room.

  
" - me. Nate?"

  
There was no response. Matt couldn't help but sigh as he put together Nate had been trying to get rid of him. Now he was more than likely off somewhere with his friends, probably doing something stupid and reckless. 

  
Matt heaved another sigh and flopped onto his own bed. Let Nate be irresponsible. He didn't have the energy to look after him 24/7, anyway.

  
His heart hurt as soon as he'd thought that. He knew if he got wind that Nate was in trouble, he'd burn down half the campus if it meant saving him.

  
His laptop made a small, telltale noise which alerted him to a call from his boss. All supers' boss, actually. 

  
Professor W. was a curious soul. If he was even that. No one knew more about him than he was head of the Supers League, tended to swear a great deal, and had an affinity for the colors pink and red. Rumors circulated he actually had no powers, but of course, no one had ever gotten close enough to confirm or deny it. Even the Professor himself refused to comment on the matter.

  
When a group of teen supers had started calling him Professor V., for Valentine, on account of the leader's color schemes, they were quickly reprimanded. No one knew how, exactly, but the Professor was never given such a nickname again by anyone.

  
Matt opened the audio-cam link. "Yes, Professor?"

  
"Fucking shocker today, Matter. Nightmare's back, as per the usual. He's rounded up some hostages on the corner of Trenton and Silver. Can you handle it?"  
The Professor was also very sarcastic when he wanted to be.

  
"I'm not going to catch him, sir" Matt insisted, as he always did. When he much younger, he'd always thought he'd do it one day. Now, all he was concerned with was saving everyone else. Nightmare wasn't particularly vicious, but he had the habit of being foolish from time to time.

  
"Not a concern, Matter. Just take care of it" Professor W. continued with an exaggerated sigh.

  
"Will do, sir. Over and out"

  
"I told you to stop saying that, it sounds stupid"

  
Matt closed his laptop and slid off his bed. His uniform was hidden in a secret compartment under his bunk. He crawled onto Nate's bed and undid the catch, catching the clothing as it fell over his face. Quickly, he changed and shifted the color waves so the security camera wasn't focused on him. Then, AntiMatter was gone.

  
\- - - - -

  
"I see you're up to your tricks again, Nightmare?"

  
A low chuckle rang across the alleyway, causing the air to tremble just the slightest bit. Nightmare placed his hands demurely behind his back and grinned up at AntiMatter, who was suspended a few meters above him.

  
"But of course, sweetheart" he replied. 

  
The hero descended, face of stony resignation. "Just let the hostages go and we won't have a problem" he commanded strictly.

  
"Oh, is that all? You're quite pathetic, Matter. I expected more from you" teased Nightmare, pretending to inspect his nails. Matt rolled his eyes, tugging at the reality around him and warping around Nightmare. The villain merely chuckled as Matt's fingers flitted through the hostages' bonds and allowed them to rush away with brief whispers of thanks.

  
"Are you done?" asked Nate, tapping his foot. Matt glared and approached slowly.

  
"Yes, I am. Now, I'll give you two options: Give back the jewelry and leave quietly, or we fight" Matt said sternly.

  
Nightmare laughed again, and shivers trailed down Matt's spine. "But, darling, you know how much I love our encounters" he purred, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

  
Matt took a shaky breath. "Nightmare - "

  
"Yes?"

  
"The offer stands. Leave quietly or I'll make you"

  
"Make me? How interesting" 

  
Matt's words only seemed to add the Nightmare's itinerary of wicked grins and twisted words. He'd had enough. The world around his fists twisted, and with a flick of his wrists, one of the rubbish bins behind Nightmare fell to the ground with a crash. 

  
He glanced behind him and Matt lunged, shoving the villain to the ground and pinning him down quickly. Nightmare smirked at him, black eyes reflecting the sky. "Well, isn't this interesting?" he said, referring to their current situation. The lips were dangerously close and Matt pulled away.

   
"You're under arrest"

  
"Think again, love"

  
A shriek filled the air and blasted Matt back. His head started to swim, filled with nonsense ringing. Angrily he warped back around Nightmare, who was still looking infuriatingly handsome.

  
Smug. That's was he meant.

  
"Face it, Matter. I'm always one step ahead of you" the villain purred tauntingly. Matt squeezed his fists even tighter and grit his teeth. 

  
"You been a pain in my side, and my ear, for long enough" he said, before thrusting out an arm and knocking Nightmare back several feet into a pile of crates stacked in the alley. He heard the villain wince.

  
_Is he okay?_

  
Nightmare stood up, chuckling and wiping a bit of blood from his cracked lip. The dim moonlight floated over his black jeans, black jacket, and deep blue hair the Matt was certain was a wig. His face was streaked with dark splotches of makeup, effectively hiding his identity, particularly in the dark.

  
Matthew Patrick was a highly observant man. That was how he'd gotten so good at acting. He could see every twitch and shudder of a person's emotions and emulate them to perfection.  Now he was observing the small patches of skin that glow pale in moonlight on Nightmare. 

  
There was always something alluring about him, and Matt hated it.

  
"Nightmare - "

  
"Give it up, Matter. You won't kill me"

  
"I don't intend to. In fact, the police are on their way"

  
Nightmare snarled angrily at that, throwing a punch. Matt reacted quickly, jerking Nightmare's fist to the side with a quick twist.

  
Sirens sounded, and Nightmare growled, uttering a low tune. Matt quickly covered his ears, but it wasn't very useful. His legs felt suddenly numb, and the world dissolved into vague colors and shapes. All he could hear was Nightmare's voice, winding around him like a spider's web.

  
Matt gritted his teeth and shook his head. The singing started to fade, and when the world cleared, Nightmare was gone. The last whispers of his voice still rang in his ear.

  
\- - - - -

  
There was quiet snoring when Nate returned to his dorm, still dressed in his outfit, wig and used makeup wipes stuffed into his duffel bag.  
He gritted his teeth and peeked inside.

  
Matt was sprawled out on the couch, mouth hanging open and mussed brown hair falling limply over his face. He was the cutest damn thing Nate had seen in a while.  
He blushed like an idiot, darting into the room and changing. Despite his rush, Matt was still asleep. Nate sat next to him, gently shaking his shoulder. He noticed a slight bruise on Matt's upper arm as did so.

  
He worried for a moment, but hurriedly brushed it aside. Matt was clever and a little clumsy. He was fine.

  
Matt finally started, wide brown eyes darting open and redness spreading across his face as they met Nate's large black ones.

  
"Mm? Nate? Sorry, I forgot to make dinner" he grunted, gaze darting away. He licked his lips nervously, and Nate shivered the tiniest bit.

  
"S'okay"

  
A yawn cut through Nate's words. He was tired, as he always was after using his powers. They always seemed to drain him, and leave his throat dry and burning.

  
Without thinking, he collapsed on top of Matt. To his surprise, Matt didn't shove him off. Rather, he put an arm around him and pulled him closer. Matt's scent surrounded him, and he was asleep before he knew it.

  
Matt, half delirious with exhaustion, ran his hand through Nate's hair. He had the vaguest idea he wouldn't mind doing that for the rest of his life.

  
"I got you" he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of Nate's forehead. His hair was scented with smoke and shampoo. Matt couldn't help but smile.

  
\- - - - -

  
_Needless to say, the next morning was rather awkward_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel better about these; more of the later chapters will be centered around the ship than the plot setup, which is boring but had to be done. It honestly may be cut later and this story will be edited into a series of one-shots as opposed to a coherent story.
> 
> On another note, I've had some requests to write smut. What do y'all think? 
> 
> Anyway, I still love hearing your feedback! Happy holidays!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which superheroes are discussed

"Pull up a chair, man"

Matt and Nate collapsed into chairs next to Jack, who was shoveling peas into his mouth, bright green hair flopping over his forehead. Mark raised an eyebrow as he continued to eat, before looking up at Matt and Nate.

"How's everything?" Mark asked.

"Same as usual, I'm afraid" Matt admitted. "How about you two?"

Jack paused his inhalation of his food to look up and smile. "My folks are coming to the states for Thanksgiving. It'll be great to see 'em after so long" he said.

Jack, or Sean, depending on who you asked, was from Ireland, and living in the US on a four-year college program. His accent had not faded one bit over the years, and there were rumors he practiced in front of the mirror every night to keep it. There were also rumors about why Mark sometimes picked up the accent when he was angry, but that's another story.

"Everything's staying the same around here" Nate said, pushing his glasses back into place and running a hand through his dark hair, a gesture neither Mark nor Jack failed to notice brought a slight flush to Matt's cheeks.

"Did you hear about the hostages last night?" Mark added.

"Yeah. Not much, though"

Being a superhero meant two things: hard work and secrecy. Long ago, Matt had perfected his ability to perfectly mask any signs of recognition when someone brought up AntiMatter. He knew only as much about the hero as the average person did, and that was how he planned to keep it.

Nate shook his head. "No. What happened?" When it came to secrecy, Nate wasn't as good as he'd like. Instead of _maybes_ and _a bits_ , he always said no, unless the event had been catastrophic.  That had never happened. Nate was a lot of things, but he wasn't a murderer or a psycho. He needed money, and he loved power. He was a part of the city, as it was a part of him. Everything had its place, even nightmares.

"AntiMatter scared Nightmare off and freed some people. Nothing was stolen except some hundreds" Jack said, reading through a report on his phone.

"Nightmare doesn't steal like he used to. Wonder why..." Mark muttered thoughtfully.

Nate busied himself with his coffee, pretending to be uninterested. This was true. He didn't steal much anymore. He had become addicted to the lifestyle. He loved the hunt, the chase, the fight. He loved the dark and the sound of footsteps echoing. And Matter... he loved to watch him, watch the moonlight and street lamps dart across his face, watch his lips and hair and hands. He wanted him in the palm of his hand, and one day he'd do it.

"Nate?"  Nate blinked and shook himself. "Yeah?" "You okay?" Matt asked, rubbing his shoulder gently. Nate nodded, but didn't shrug off Matt's hand. He liked it there. 

"Jesus, can't these two just fuck already? They've got such a thing going" Jack said, still scrolling through articles.

It was Matt's turn to choke on his drink. After coughing, he forced himself to laugh. "Too true" he agreed, watery-eyed. Mark shot him a suspicious and accusatory glance, but said nothing more. Nate was suddenly very interested in his left tunnel, and pretended to be staring into space.

Mark's words came loudly. "There's a party at my frat house this weekend. You guys wanna come?" he asked.

Nate grinned. "We'll be there"

"Sweet"

Jack's phone suddenly let out a ridiculously loud text message alert, causing Mark and Nate to jump and Matt to trip as he was just standing up from his seat. Nate caught his arm and steadied him. Jack glared at his phone.  "Wade, ye bastard, stop texting me" he frowned angrily.


	7. Chapter 7

As with most artists, Nate had his ups and downs. There were days when the words and notes flew from his fingertips and always seemed to sound perfect.

And then there were those other days.

"Motherfucker!"

Matt glanced up from his essay to offer a pitying smile to Nate as the dark-haired man struggled with his guitar. He saw Matt and blushed, frowning again.

"Can't get this damn chord right" he muttered, mentally begging Matt to drop it. He was having enough problems.

Of course, Matt rose from his seat and started a across the room towards him.

"Let me help" he said gently.

"You really don't - "

Matt was next to him, putting his hands on his and guiding his fingers gently. He really had very vague idea of what he was doing, but his touch was firm and reassuring. Nate swallowed hard as his heart nearly pounded out of his chest. Matt's fingers were warm and his breath was a mixture of mint and something carbonated.

His mind was reeling. God, what was it about his dorky roommate that did this to him? He heard Matt's command to play, and he did, hardly paying attention to the notes.

"See? Better already" Matt said with satisfaction, before noticing Nate's oddly red face. "Nate? You alright?"

Nate looked up and smiled. "Yeah! I'm good" he lied.

Matt felt his face flush at Nate's smile. Lord, he was a nerd. They been roommates for what felt like forever, and since that first day his heart had never ceased ringing in his ears, and he was still drowning in night when he looked Nate in the eyes.

"Do you - do you want to hear the whole song?" Nate asked, desperate to fill the empty space dangling between them.

Matt nodded before he could stop himself. "Yeah. Go ahead"

Nate took a breath and started to play. When his voice joined in, his eyes closed and he felt everything around him. He heard his heartbeat, and Matt's gentle breathing, and the wind outside. Rain was coming. He thought of the strings buzzing under his fingers, of the notes hastily scribbled on the page in varied colors of blue and black ink. He thought of Matt, running his hand through his hair and kissing him until he was under his spell completely. 

"Nate?"

The dream ended, and Nate opened his eyes. His entire face was burning, from the tips of his ears to his cheeks. Matt was staring at him, eyes crinkled with concern. "You okay?" he asked gently, reaching out to touch Nate's shoulder without breaking eye contact

Instinctively, he jerked away. "Sorry" he muttered.

Matt bit his lip and Nate wanted to punch him. "It sounded great" he said finally. Nate managed a small smile, shrugging. "Thanks" he said, feeling hyper-aware that Matt was moving closer.

"You sure you're okay? You look a little pale" he said, slowly putting an arm around Nate's shoulder. Nate bit his own tongue and nodded. He turned to face Matt, and their noses were almost touching. He wasn't particularly pale now.

"Yeah" he breathed.

The world was spinning. Or maybe it had stopped completely. 

Matt pulled away, and it was over. Their faces were both red and their breathing was slightly ragged.

"I've got to finish my paper" Matt choked. 

"Kay. I should get some work done too" Nate said as Matt stood up.

The rest of the evening passed in silence, until Nate's phone ran with a jarring buzz, ripping both men out of their thoughts.

"It's a reminder from Mark. I guess I forgot its Thursday. Party tomorrow!" he said, without a hint of enthusiasm. 

"Great"


	8. Chapter 8

Neither Matt nor Nate had ever been one for parties. 

Matt, as was to be expected, preferred a book and a hot drink to a night out filled with obnoxious people, obnoxious music, and liquids that left him with a splitting headache the next day. Sure, he was old school, but he still failed to see the appeal. 

Nate hated dancing in crowded places, hated getting drunk, and hated the general air of a party. He would much prefer a nice action flick with Matt, preferably snuggled up with him.

That had yet to happen, but he could hope.

There was also the small side effect of the powers. While older, more seasoned supers and villains hardly ever experienced such a problem, most younger ones suffered great loss of control while under the influence, or very sick. Last winter, Matt had gotten a pretty bad bought of the flu, and had found himself floating around and send objects flying. Thankfully, Nate had been home for the holidays. 

Even without those complications, however, neither man could be called a party animal.

So Matt was a little surprised to see Nate debating his choice of attire in a serious manner he hardly ever assumed when not behind his guitar or microphone.

"Thought you didn't care about the party" said Matt, flopping onto Nate's bed and trying to avoid giggling as he watched Nate rummage through his side of the closet furiously.

"I don't" he argued. "But if we have to go, I might as well look nice. Get *something* out of this whole thing. I heard Morgan'll be there, too"

Matt rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling sick. He shoved the feeling to the back of his mind and managed an amused sigh. "We don't  _have_ to go, you know" he said quietly. "We can just stay here and watch a movie or something"

Matt's eyes were glued very intently on a particularly interesting stray thread on his shirt as he spoke, and he utterly failed to notice as Nate paused his clothes-hunting and looked up at him with softened black eyes.

He wanted to say yes.

But he was afraid to.

Afraid of the implications of such an evening, which might start out casual but wind up being something they both deeply regretted in the morning. Perhaps that was wishful thinking on his part, but he could not force himself to say yes.

"Nah, I'm good. It won't be so bad. Besides, we wouldn't want to bail on Mark" he insisted, finally deciding on a shirt and pants and ducking into the bathroom to change. Matt glanced at the time on his phone to distract himself from the thought that Nate was getting dressed a few meters away.

"You better hurry up, or we'll be late" Matt insisted without the tiniest hint of urgency.

"Alright, alright. I'm hurrying" Nate called back, not hurrying in the slightest.

So Matt was left alone with his thoughts, which wasn't really such a bad thing. But at the moment, he didn't much feel like obliging them. Instead, he decided to watch cat videos. Matt had long ago come to the conclusions that cat videos solved everything.

But the thoughts creeped in.

Maybe the party wouldn't be so bad if he and Nate went together. _Together_ , together. Matt wanted to kick himself. He sounded like an infatuated fifth-grader.

Absently, he picked at the loose thread on his shirt again. It was one of his favorites, in no small part since it had been a gift from Nate for his birthday. The pocket had a little tail and ears sticking out, and peeking inside revealed a small army of kittens sleeping together. "Very manly", as Nate had put it.

Matt was about ready to leave without Nate when the bathroom door opened and the narcissist finally emerged, grinning a little sheepishly.

Feeling his face heat up, Matt faked a disappointed facepalm in a somewhat futile attempt to hide his true feelings at Nate's choice of attire. "Are you really wearing those?" he asked, still feigning disappointment as he gestured vaguely to Nate's outfit.

Nate looked down at himself and realized he, too, was blushing. It wasn't anything that had seemed out of place, just a T-shirt and some black skinny jeans.

Then again, he was always second guessing himself around Matt these days. He stuck his hands in his pocket and looked at the floor. "I can change, if you want" he said, knowing full well if Matt wanted him to break the window he might do it.

Forcing himself to chuckle and hoping his face had gone back to normal, Matt stood up and grinned, playfully punching Nate's arm. "I'm only kidding, you know" he teased. " _I'm_ the one wearing the cat pocket shirt, remember?"

"Still very manly"

"I couldn't agree more"

Halfway down the dorm hall, Matt bit his lip and slipped his slightly larger hand in Nate's small, soft one and felt his stomach flutter when Nate squeezed his hand very gently and did not let go. A few stray glances and whistles were thrown their way, but neither let go of the other until they reached the door to Mark's frat house.

  
_Together_ , together, his mind whispered.

* * *

The party was as both men had feared. Mark, while not overly obnoxious himself, did have the nasty habit of making some very strange friends with very strange ideals and incredibly poor decision making skills. 

The music was loud, cheesy, and pounding Nate's inebriated skull as he tried his best to blend into a nearby wall, clutching his beer as if it were a lifeline. His head was spinning with too much alcohol, and it took all his willpower not to lay down on the floor and fall asleep. He'd lost Matt some half hour ago, and was now too frayed and tipsy to actually look for him. Even through the thick haze that was clouding his mind, he still felt a pang of worry at the thought of Matt off doing something stupid. He may have been smart, and a great many other things, but he also had a very, very low alcohol tolerance.

A tall girl wearing not much of anything walked by, and Nate caught the scent of some unmistakable drug that was probably illegal, at best. He decided to promptly smack Mark when he was sober enough to do so, even if the party getting out of control wasn't exactly his fault. Mark couldn't even drink, and even if he could, Nate had the suspicion he wouldn't be the drinking type anyway. Jack did enough drinking for the both of them, anyway.

"Hey"

Nate froze, clenching his fist tighter around the beer bottle. He'd know that voice anywhere, and now he wished he hadn't heard it at all. Matt's speech was slurred and slow, with a huskier quality than Nate was used to. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he forced himself to turn around. 

"Hey! You okay, Matt?"

Matt was definitely under the influence, as it were, but he didn't look completely and utterly whipped yet. His eyes were a little glazed and his cheeks flushed, but there was still a bit of reason left in his gaze.

"What? Yeah! I'm great!" he stammered, hiccupping slightly and leaning forward. Nate caught him by the shoulder, gingerly removing his drink from his hand. It might have been fruit punch for all he knew, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Unfortunately for himself, Nate wasn't all that sober either, and his mind was having a very hard time staying on task. He was doing his best to ignore the part of himself that was very drawn to Matt in his current state, filling his stomach with butterflies as his eyes flickered over Matt's tousled hair and flushed lips, visible even in the dim, vaguely strobe lights.

"You sure?" he asked, pressing his hand to Matt's cheek and brushing some loose hair out of his eyes. Matt looked up at him, a strangely mischievous light dancing in his eyes.

"I'm sure" he muttered, leaning closer to Nate, who did not draw back in spite of himself. Slender, pale fingers traced up his sides, before settling against his chest. 

"Matthew - "

His back hit the wall and Matt's lips were on his and he might as well have lost any and all sense of reason then and there. Matt was gripping the collar of his jacket and holding him closer than he'd ever hoped to be.

He tasted alcohol on Matt's lips, but that was the least intoxicating part of the experience. Matt's fingers grazed through his hair, running along his scalp. He gasped slightly, lips parting for the tiniest moment before the taste of Matt filled his mouth. 

Second felt like days, and the music had long since gone silent in both men's ears as their tongues intermingled and they rolled against each other, ignoring the various hoots and hollers from other guests.

When he felt his lungs were going to burst, Nate finally tore himself away, allowing his teeth to graze Matt's lower lip as he did so. They stared at each other for a long moment, breathing heavily, still entranced in their own little world.

"Do you want to go back?" Matt murmured softly, hands beginning to wander. Nate caught his wrists very gently, flashing a small smile.

"Can you keep your hands off me until then?"

* * *

It was near midnight when they reached the dorms, and no sooner had the heavy door shut and the lock clicked that their hands were on each other, pulling and tugging at clothing.

Nate had Matt against the wall, kissing him fiercely, drinking in every second as he undid the button's on Matt's shirt, doing his best not to pop them off. Even in his highly intoxicated state, he knew full well Matt would hate for the shirt to be damaged.

The shirt slid off, and Nate wrapped his hands under Matt's thighs and carried the slightly smaller man over to his bunk, throwing him down a bit roughly and crawling on top of him, barely breaking the kiss.

"God, Nate" he heard Matt whisper, as he pressed his lips against his jaw. He felt himself smile, kissing along Matt's neck as he spoke. 

"Which is it? Make up your mind" he teased, cutting Matt's eye roll short as he pressed his hips down, stifling whatever he had been going to say and replacing it with an unapologetic moan.

Nate was still kissing along Matt's shoulders, ravishing every part of him. Every inch felt like him, and smelled like him, and he wanted to remember it for as long as he possibly could. Matt's various responses to his touch echoed in his ears, urging him on. 

"Nate - "

"Hmm?" Nate hummed against Matt's chest, just to feel the shudder that ran through his body. He'd waited too long to fuck this up, and he was going to savor every moment.

"You're a damned idiot, you know that?" Matt managed as Nate pressed another kiss to his hipbone.

"But I'm your idiot, right?"

"Yeah, yeah"


	9. Chapter 9

When Matt had first arrived on campus, he was awkward, and nerdy, and absolutely terrified.

He was never late for class, hardly ate or slept, and in general pushed himself to a very unhealthy point.

Nate had found him crying on top of three extra credit assignments, two AP assignments, a script, and a cup of cold coffee.

"Matt?"

"Go away" he'd mumbled, burying his face in his arms to hide his puffed red eyes and the dried tear tracks trailing across his cheeks. Nate had said nothing, but approached his roommate and gently lifted his chin. His eyes filled with concern as he wiped away the leftover tears and offered a small, comforting smile. Matt's vision blurred, and he buried his face against Nate's chest, shoulders beginning to shake with a fresh bought of tears.

Nate shushed him gently. "C'mere" he muttered, helping Matt down from his stool and leading him to the window. "If you'd take your nose out of those books once in a while you might know we've got a great view of the sunrise" he said, pulling the cheap plastic curtains aside to reveal a sky streaked with pink, purple, and red. Matt's next sob caught in his throat, and he stared wonderingly at the dancing colors like a mystified little kid.

His heart beat a little faster.

Matt never quite forgot that night.

That same light that always cut through their window on clear days now broke through Matt's sleep and stirred him gently. He yawned, refusing to open his eyes and nuzzling closer to the warmth that had enveloped him from behind, pulling the comforter further over his shoulder.

Matt didn't have a comforter on his bed.

His heart skipped a beat, and for the briefest moment he thought he'd been kidnapped and was now going to be used for illegal experiments testing the true cause of superpowers. He clenched his fists, nearly shrieking when he felt something over his left wrist shift slightly.

The scent of the sheets rushed up against him as his warmth shifted behind him, pulling him closer and placing a kiss on the top of his head.

"G'morning" 

The night came flooding back, and with it a rush of blood to Matt's cheeks. Would Nate be angry? Disgusted? He'd ruined everything, hadn't he? Gone too fast, been ridiculous, and if his headache was anything to go by, gotten drunk and _fucked his best friend_.

Nice one, Matt.

"You okay? You're shaking a little" Nate asked gently. Matt forced himself to roll over, their noses nearly touching as Nate threaded his hand through Matt's thick, tangled locks. They were both sporting impressive bedheads, and Nate hadn't the heart to tell Matt he was an even worse snorer when he had to share a bed.

"Morning, beautiful" Nate teased, flashing another smile.

Matt blushed again and rolled his eyes. "Can't say the same for you" he murmured, grinning as Nate scoffed in mock surprise and hurt. He leaned even closer.

"How dare you" he muttered, captured Matt's lips for a kiss. This kiss was different from the night before. This one was slow and gentle as their lips meshed together and warmth flooded the room. It never seemed to end, but when it did it hadn't felt anywhere near long enough.

"You're not mad?" Matt asked finally, when they'd parted again.

The bed shook with Nate's laughter as he gently stroked Matt's cheek. "Why would I be mad, you idiot? I love you"

Matt's heart stopped, and a million things flooded his mind in the span of a fraction of a second.

It was hard to get attached when you were a hero. You saved people everyday who worshipped and praised you. It all faded into one big mob after a while. Matt hated to shove all the people into such a box, but if any were truly genuine they were hiding behind the hysterical old ladies and tween fan clubs.

He had family, of course, and he loved them dearly; his mother and father, his younger sister, known to most as Titania, and all the rest.

Matt knew love. 

Did he love Nate?

Memories filled his mind to answer his question, the question he'd been avoiding for months. Late nights cramming for tests together, peppered with coffee breaks and hot pads. Weekend trips to other cities or the beach, watching the stars and singing badly at three AM. Trying and failing pretty miserably to cook anything resembling food in their shitty dorm oven. Years of playful banter and hugs that lasted a few moments beyond expected. Hand holding, stolen kisses. Real kisses.

"I love you too"

Silence passed over the couple as they lay facing each other, staring into each others eyes in the most cliché manner possible, and yet neither really minded, in a way.

After what felt like hours, Nate yawned, leaning into Matt's chest with a long sigh. "Can you make breakfast?" he asked, in his best attempt at a cutesy voice.

Matt rolled his eyes. "I _always_ make breakfast, you idiot. You can't make toast to save your life, much less an omelet or anything" 

Nate shrugged, still not opening his eyes but unable to stop the small smirk that crept up his face. 

With another sigh, Matt shoved him playfully off of his chest and sat up, yawning. Nate rolled back over. "Wake me when it's done" he muttered, before wincing as Matt playfully slugged his shoulder.

"You are the laziest person I've ever met" he teased, retrieving a shirt from his drawer and pulling it one as he entered the kitchen. Unbeknownst to him, Nate rolled back over and watched him with a fond smile.

Nate was trying not to think, which wasn't too hard when he had the distraction of Matt in a thin T-shirt making breakfast for the both of them. He didn't want to think too hard, or he would blush and giggle and generally make a fool out of himself.

He was actually kind of thankful for his slight headache. It meant the previous night was very fuzzy, and he couldn't recall the numerous awkward moments that were undoubtedly present. He could only remember the feeling of Matt's skin on his own, the taste of his lips mixed with alcohol, his voice as he repeated his name again and again.

Nate had never considered himself a good kid, even without the Nightmare persona. He was short tempered and a little lazy, too standoffish for his own good, and completely lacking a filter when it mattered most. And, of course, he was kind of a supervillain. He was merely a nuisance thief and had never taken a life, but a life of theft was still a life of crime. But Nate had always distanced himself from Nightmare. They might have been the same person, but at the end of the day, Nightmare was just a costume, a smile, and a persona he donned. 

And Matt loved him. 

He put his hands and his lips on those places that hurt, that Nate hated to show, and for just seconds at a time, he felt whole again. In his foolish delusions, Nate felt as if maybe Matt loved Nightmare, too.

_I love you._

_I love you too._

Thank whatever god in the universe had led him to this moment. Whatever he had done to deserve Matt in his life must have been pretty damn good.

"Eggs are done, sleeping beauty!"

Nate bit his lip and pushed his thoughts away, sitting up and climbing out of bed. More silence passed as the pair ate, completely unsure what to say.

"Imma turn on the news. See what's going on" Nate said finally, desperate to break the awkward silence. Before he could hit the remote, however, Matt placed his hand on top of his with a small smile. 

"It's fine. I'm okay with the quiet" he assured him.

Nate raised eyebrow. "Oh?"

Instantly, Matt flushed vibrant red and covered his face. "Shut up!" he whimpered helplessly. Nate chuckled, gently removing Matt hands from his face and cupping it gently.

"You moron. You adorable, perfect idiot" he said. Matt opened his mouth to reply but was cut off as Nate kissed him again.

Matt wondered if, one day, he might have a normal life with Nate. No powers, no League, no Nightmare. Just happiness, like what he felt in this short, shining moment.

Nate broke away and checked his watch, suddenly yelling in surprise. "Fuck me, I've got guitar lessons on half an hour!"

Matt snickered quietly as Nate nearly fell off his chair and lunged for his clothes drawer, digging through it like a madman until he found something suitable to wear.

"You know - "

"Don't even, Matthew"

Matt stirred his coffee, feigning innocence. "I was only going to ask about the guitar lessons" he said. Nate brushed aside the comment with a wave of his hand. "It's nothing, just a stupid thing I do with the neighborhood kids" he muttered, slipping his guitar case over his shoulder.

"Aw, Nate, that's so sweet!"

"You can shower me with compliments later. I gotta go"

The door closed and Matt was alone with reality.

He couldn't have Nate. He couldn't have a normal life, or a boyfriend. He didn't have room to be foolish or make dumb choices. He couldn't travel. He was bound by duty to the city, as he had been since he was eight, before he learned what an unforgiving, cruel world he lived in.

Before he fell in love with his best friend and developed a crush on his worst enemy.

Before reality set in.

_With great power comes great responsibility_

Dammit, Spider-Man.


	10. Chapter 10

**Confidential Persons Files**

**Subject 67S-D**

**DECEASED**

**Name: Lucy Greenfield**

**Alias: The Reflector**

**Enhancements: Ability to mimic anyone within range of vision, including appearance, voice, abilities, and memories.***

**Hair: Red**

**Eyes: Green**

**Height: 5, 5"**

**Weight: 122lbs**

**Notable Characteristics: Freckles**

**Costume: Silvery suit, black mask, white-blond wig.**

**Crimes: Murder, massacre, destruction of public and private property**

**Threat level: N/A**

**Additional comments: Subject was terminated as of March 20XX. Cause of death was malnutrition and hysteria. Cause of hysteria remains unknown. See file 69D for more.**

**Allies: N/A**

**Enemies: N/A**

*** _Shortly before termination subject gained enhanced strength, shadow manipulation, and teleportation abilities, among others. Cause is currently unknown_**


	11. Chapter 11

 Files would show that Nightmare was not a particularly aggressive or destructive force. His charges were those of petty thievery and in general being a nuisance.

"Professor W.? Sir?"

"What the fuck do you want?"

No matter how long one spent with the League leader, it remained a little impossible to get over his language. Truth be told, he didn't seem to notice he was swearing at all.

"The new apartment complexes are gone. Partially"

W sigh sounded over the microphone. "Care to specify, ye bastard?"

"Of course, sir" came the informant's voice, sounding a bit amused as the professor's voice took on an Irish lilt. "It's Nightmare. He hasn't hurt anyone, the complexes weren't even finished. He just brought them down in what appears to be a fit of rage"

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I - "

"Rhetorical question, dumbass. Send Matter. That little thief might actually listen to him" 

"Dispatched, sir. That reminds me, the council is having some concerns regarding Mr. Patrick and Mr. Sharp"

"Oh?"

* * *

If Matt hadn't been looking forward to confronting Nightmare before, his arrival at the crime scene only confirmed his uneasiness.

"You can't bring the whole city down, Nightmare"

"You underestimate me" Nate chuckled. His laugh sent a wave of shock down the street, cracking windows and rattling signposts.

 

Matt grinned, leaning forward so their faces were nearly touching. "I think it is you who underestimates I" he said, suddenly launching into the air, flickering his fingers to force gravity into a little bubble around him, holding him suspended in the air.

Nate crossed his arms and ran a hand through his deep blue locks. AntiMatter's tiny gasp caught his ears, and he grinned deviously.

Oh, yes.

Taking a deep breath, he let out a scream the would have brought the Eiffel Tower down, had he wanted to do so. He channeled it directly at AntiMatter, feeling his own chest pulse as he unleashed the deadly force. If his eyes had been open, it would have been possible to see the air around him rippling.

Matt was not ready. Without warning, his head spun as an ear-splitting shriek cut through his defenses, sending his mind into complete disorder. He clapped his hand over his ears and gritted his teeth, trying desperately to block out Nightmare's call.

The sonic screech was soon joined by another as Matt's bubble wavered and collapsed, and he hurtled down to earth. Quickly scanning around him and coming to his senses, he managed to pull together enough strength to slow his fall. He hit the pavement with a soft thud, no more force than if he'd tripped and landed on his backside. Pain coursed through his body for a brief moment, but nothing seemed to be broken.

Matt rubbed his head and pushed his hair away from his eyes, shaking his head to clear his fuzzy vision. Groaning, he made to stand but was suddenly stopped by a weight against his chest. He looked up and glared.

Nightmare stood over him with a smug expression, a foot planted firmly on his chest and his dark eyes filled with a determined gaze. He knelt down next to Matt and seized the collar of his suit, pulling him off the concrete until they were close enough to hear each other's heartbeat.

"So pathetic, Matter. Did you like my new trick?" he asked, flashing a pearly, crooked grin. "I've been... rehearsing" 

Matt rolled his eyes, trying to summon his energy. But the world was still shaking, and his head was still spinning from Nightmare's sonic blast. He couldn't get a firm hold on anything.

He tightened his fists and swallowed hard, avoiding Nightmare's hypnotic black eyes and desperately searching for a way out of this mess he'd wound up in. 

He winced as Nightmare suddenly grabbed his jaw and forced him to look right at the super villain. His heart began to quicken, and he scolded himself for being such an easy target. Those dark eyes were filled with spite and power and a terrifying, lusty glint. Matt swallowed again. 

No, no, no. Think about something else. Anything else.

The world was slowing. With any luck, he still had a chance.

"Now, now, Matter. Can't have you ignoring me, can we?" teased Nate, immensely enjoying the fear in AntiMatter's eyes as he toyed with him. He did so love the games they played, dancing around each other with brief words and touches until they were both dizzy with hate and lust.

That would end tonight. Nightmare had long since accepted the fact that he was no longer in it for the money; he was in it for the fight. And for once, he'd show that goody-two shoes superhero who was really in charge. He'd give him a real taste of villainy, let him feel the chaos coursing through his veins, feel it burn his heart and mind until he was drunk with it.

"Of course not" Matt responded, as cynically as he could manage in his current position.

"You're so cute when you're naïve" crooned Nate, seizing Matt's collar with both hands. "I like it" he added, before yanking the superhero forward and crushing his lips against his.

In spite of himself, Matt kissed back with all his strength. He silenced the alarm bells in his mind, forced the screams of logic back, and kissed the man he had fought for nearly four years. His heart was racing and his mind was spinning again. For all he knew, they could have been lifted into space. Neither would have noticed. They were in their own private world, one undisturbed by hate or justice or truth.

Nate had planned to make it quick. Kiss that stupid hero and leave him broken and begging on the concrete, the taste of Nate's tongue still lingering on his lips. Prove to AntiMatter he was as pathetic as Nate always said, although neither actually believed that. 

It was addicting. The scents and sounds poured into his brain like intoxicating fluid, and he never wanted to let go. Matt's lips were soft and gentle, sending his heart racing. He brushed his tongue against his lower lip, and nearly grinned at how eagerly his lips parted.

The hero tasted like love, like truth, like all that sappy stuff he'd always despised when seeing it in cheesy novels and movies. And it was wrong and strange and yet so good that he couldn't pull himself away. 

Without noticing, Nate's hands had moved from their death grip on Matt's collar and were now buried in his thick brown hair. One of Matt's hands was resting on Nate's chest, clutching the black material as if it were a lifeline.

For all he cared, it was.

They stayed like that for minutes, days, years. Time lost its meaning for those brief moments. It felt like an eternity, locked in a embrace that was so wrong and so right. It was everything they'd ever wanted, and everything they feared.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Someone had heard, and possibly seen, the commotion and alerted them, as Matt had planned to take care of the situation himself. But just like that, the spell was broken. Nate snapped himself out of the embrace and pushed a dazed AntiMatter back to the ground. He strained his ears and counted six police cars, and possibly a copter, sent by panicked officials who could get no clear story from whatever hysteric called them in.

One copter too many.

Nate shifted back on his heels and gazed smugly down at AntiMatter, who had his hand pressed against his mouth with a look of awe.

"I'd love to stay and chat, sweetheart, but I'm afraid I must run. Until next time!" he added in a sing-song voice.

Grabbing the hero once again, he placed one last poisonous kiss on Matt's lips, grinning as the hero arched into the embrace. The sirens called louder as they turned a corner, and suddenly he was gone.

Matt scrambled to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, and he had to grab the air around him to stay standing. His tongue tasted like strong coffee, bitter and harsh. But he craved more, was desperate for the taste of Nightmare.

He was a gullible fool, a fool in love with his worst enemy.

But he didn't care. He'd find Nightmare, and he'd show that sly little thief his true colors. Perhaps some of the villain's dark nature had seeped into him through that kiss, but Matt's mind was suddenly filled with all the things he could do to Nightmare.

With that thought, he mustered up his strength and flew away, Nightmare's touch still freshly seared into his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that as of now, no one has commented about Professor W.'s true identity. I'm terrible at mysteries so it isn't hard, but what do you guys think? 
> 
> Btw, smut will be appearing relatively soon. I'm no good at it, but it was highly necessary for this story.
> 
> Much love and Happy New Year!


	12. Chapter 12

It was getting warmer. There was still the occasional traces of frost in shady areas, the closest to snow LA ever got, and one always needed a sweater in the morning but would find themselves melting by about 3 o'clock.

Matt thought it was the perfect weather to study and relax, and he dragged Nate with him. They had yet to speak of what had transpired between them. There had been less talking in general between them, and more slight glances and soft smiles. 

It was different, but it was nice.

Matt was always hyper-prepared, and he'd brought a blanket and set it up on the grass with books and snacks like a glorified impressionist painting.

Unable to argue with the puppy dog face Matt gave him when he rolled his eyes, so he sighed and sat down.

Matt opened a book, smiling as he felt Nate's head on his shoulder.

"You're such a dork" he muttered, absently patting his roommate's head.

"Mmhmm" Nate said, closing his eyes. He wasn't asleep, Matt knew, but he hated to disturb him in any way. 

So Nate dozed, and Matt was alone with his thoughts, which wasn't a terrifically pleasant place to be.

His mind wandered back to Nightmare, and he let out a loud sigh. He would have to tell someone eventually, be it friend or foe. Nate shifted against him, and his wished, not for the first time, to be normal. To watch enhanced fights with as much awe as his fellow classmates, to get sick and drunk like a normal college student, to not have the safety of an entire city on his shoulders.

A loud shriek echoed across the field. In an instant, Matt was on his feet, and fists clenched and heart pounding. He barely felt Nate slide off his shoulder and hit the ground with an indignant yelp. 

A group of students had been playing frisbee, because it was Saturday and anything was better than actually getting one's work done. Since the majority of the students were very hungover, their aim was terrible, and a stray frisbee had flown right through the picnic benches roughly 100 metres away, slicing right through two freshmen who were now trying to hide the fact that they had been making out while having a lunch date.

Matt chuckled as he watched the frisbee throwers apologize profusely in slurred, giggly rambles. The couple, two girls dressed in overly stylish winter attire, indignantly gathered the remains of their lunch and marched across the field to a bench much closer to Nate and Matt, ignoring the rambunctious frisbee group who had returned to their previous shenanigans without a glance back.

Matt watched as the girls huddled onto a bench, considerably closer than before as they talked quietly, seeming to forget all about their slightly ruined date.

"We should do that" Nate muttered, settling against Matt's arm again.

Matt chuckled, glancing at Nate with blatant amusement. "What, throw frisbees into unsuspecting lunch dates? Great idea"

"No, you idiot. Go on date" Nate said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

Matt froze. Nate fingers slipped through his, and he was absolutely helpless.

"A... a date?"

"Yeah, a date. You know, dinner, kissing, that kind of thing?"

His grip tightened, and if Matt hadn't been so absorbed in his own mind, he would have felt Nate's fingers shaking.

Matt was going to say no. He'd seen right through his disguise.

Matt wanted to say yes. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. He - 

"Sure. Sounds good"

And Nate beamed and Matt couldn't feel any regret.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, I swear. Just lazy.

_"Nathan, listen to me. When you take a girl out for the first time, you treat her like royalty. Dinner, flowers, the works. You got it?"_

_"Yeah, dad"_

These were the words spoken to Nate roughly ten years ago, when he'd come home from school and announced he had a girlfriend. His father had then gone on a long spiel about what daring was, how one courted a female properly, and all the handy tips and tricks he'd learned over the course of his life. The advice seemed invaluable at the time.

Fat lot of help it was now.

Nate gave a low sigh as he slouched lower in his seat at the library, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration. He had butterflies swarming in his stomach in a way he hadn't felt since he was a freshman in high school. He'd been jumpy all day, hardly speaking except to mumble and, unknowingly, blush.

It didn't help that Matt had taken to sleeping in his bed every night that week. It was cramped, and they often woke with sore and stiff spots from intertwined limbs. But it was nice, just being together in peace for so long, not speaking or studying or working. Just the two of them, lying side by side, looking into each other's eyes and breathing slowly. Nate couldn't bring himself to kick his roommate out of his bed, no matter how sore he was in the morning.

Especially not when he felt like Matt belonged there.

The library was never even close to silent. There was always a gentle murmur of whispering, shuffling feet, fingers flicking through pages and keyboards being clicked. Matt couldn't stand it, preferring to sit at the kitchen counter and work. But Nate liked the ambiance. It gave the other, wilder parts of his mind something else to do whilst he set his mind to ordinary work.

He tasted something bitter and brackish, realizing he'd started to chew the eraser at the end of his pencil solely out of a long-dead habit that liked to resurface. He sighed again as he dropped the pencil, allowing his eyes to stray from the thin tool to the hasty scribbles on his paper.

As usual, Nate had been writing songs.

They'd been different, lately, from his usual work. Even his professors and friends seemed to notice. They liked the changes, and after some consideration, Nate liked them too. The songs were slower, smoother, more soothing. For years he'd written songs to express things he couldn't, or wouldn't, say aloud. Now they almost felt like a new way of communicating a very simple idea, a simple piece of bliss he'd found in his chaotic life.

Matthew Patrick.

Closing his eyes, Nate allowed the corners of his lips to curl upward as he thought of Matt. His hair, and his smile, and his obnoxiously squeaky laugh. 

God, he was a living cliché.

Matt wouldn't care if they had a bad date. He wouldn't care if Nate showed up in sweatpants and got them kicked out of the nice café and they ended up eating ice cream at the local dinner at midnight. He wouldn't care if they stumbled home, giggling and drunk on each other's company and champagne, and collapsed on the sofa only to wake up with cricks in their necks and backs.

Because that was Nate. Nate was stumbling and clumsiness, mistakes and missed deadlines, always late and never satisfied with anything. He was a huge ball of stress and anxiety, far beyond the normal level of any college student.

And Matt loved it all.

" _No he doesn't_ " the voices whispered. " _He still pities you. Nothing will change that. Do you really think you're Nate, and Nightmare is the mask? You're wrong. You're selfish, and deluded, and monstrous_ "

Reality came crashing down like a ton of bricks, and Nate began to scratch out the last notes of the song, furiously scolding himself again and again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was from Matt, and instantly Nate felt the tiniest bit better.

_See u in 45?_

_Yea_

Before he could start to pack his bag, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He couldn't quite describe the feeling to himself, but for all he knew the world had just drained of all color. He was kidding himself, and he was a fool. Gripping his phone tightly, he squared his shoulders and took a breath, feeling the pain in his chest spreading into a dull, dark numbness that always seemed to come with his crime sprees. It wasn't possession, by any means. It was simply a mechanism he used to avoid feeling, and failing. He set his mind on one steady track, and stayed there.

A small, rebellious voice echoed in his mind alongside the pain.

Matt deserved better than a petty thief with a broken heart.

He deserved a prince, or a queen, someone _good_.

Nathan Sharp was not good.

Not even close.

* * *

Matt's first date occurred at the ripe old age of seven. There was a little brunette girl in his first grade class with a bubbly laugh and bright eyes. They partnered up for a project about precipitation (or was it participation?), held hands, and first grade love was born among the endless giggles and eternal crayon scent of elementary school.

They spent twenty whole minutes in the park together, talking in lisping voices and building houses out of twigs. But Matt fell and scraped his knee, so he had to go home. Through his tears he bestowed a kiss on the cheek to his date, an act that seemed to amuse their parents above all else.

To date it was the best date he'd ever had.

He couldn't even remember the girl's name. Stacey? Stella? Something like that.

There was the redhead he took to his eighth grade graduation dance, who was roughly three inches taller at the time, making Matt feel like even more of a dork when she left him after five songs to hang out with her friends.

At fourteen he went to a Starbucks with a green-eyed boy whose name he tried to forget.

It escalated from there.

Because Matt was naïve and stupid, and at nineteen he'd had enough. 

Nate had been his closest friend at the time. He often wondered to himself when he fell in love with his friend. Maybe it was that night, when he came home with dark circles under his eyes and tears down his face, Nate hugged him and promised everything would be okay.

Or it was the sunset, as he'd watched gold and orange dance across Nate's face and saw the entire sky reflected in his big, dark eyes.

Love or not, he'd wanted to kiss him that night.

With a loud sigh, the present day Matt rubbed his temples with his palms, staring at the mostly blank essay on his computer screen. The empty page yawned in front of him, and he slammed the laptop lid shut with another obnoxious sigh. He wasn't going to get any work done at his current pace, with his fingers shaking and heart pounding.

The dorm was empty, and every sound felt like an earthquake. Matt was fairly certain he hadn't been this jittery in the course of his whole life. Not even before an exam, or show, or showdown.

He nearly fell out of his stool as the alarm on his phone buzzed, vibrating violently against his leg and reminding him he had thirty minutes to get to Azul, the café he and Nate were going to eat at.

With a deep breath, he rose from his seat and made his way to the door. As his fingers brushed the cold metal of the doorknob, he heard an unwelcome voice echo through his mind, taunting and teasing.

_You're so cute when you're naïve._

His fingers froze, and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He tried to close his eyes and clear his head but that sneaky little thief flashed before his eyes. Even in his brief moments of happiness, Nightmare haunted Matt, like one of those cheesy cartoon shoulder devils.

Grabbing the door knob and forcing his mind to other subjects, Matt quickly exited the dorm and began the walk to the café. It was dusky outside, the cool air accompanied by the gentle sound of rustling leaves, soothing Matt's frazzled nerves. The thought that he was going on a date, a real one, with Nate suddenly filled his mind, and it took all his power not to squeak excitedly like an awkward fanboy.

  
_Nate_.

* * *

Matt had been waiting for almost half an hour.

_"Mind if I sit here?"_

She was pretty, with short blonde hair and bright eyes. Matt, instinctively, opened his mouth to say yes but quickly stopped himself. He offered the girl a kind smile and spoke, perhaps a bit smugly.

_"My boyfriend will be here soon, but thank you"_   he said.

That was nearly twenty five minutes ago. His coffee was cold and the couple sitting at the next table over were starting to throw sympathetic glances his way, as if he was a lost puppy on the side of the road.

No messages. No call. No nothing.

He'd tried calling, but all he got was a voicemail. 

He was starting to worry. The girl who had approached him earlier was throwing him disgruntled glances from a bar stool on at the far end of the café.

Matt was an overly fidgety person, a habit which was only worsened by feelings of discontent or fear. He'd been fiddling with the hem of his shirt for nearly fifteen minutes, to the point that the fabric was starting to fray between his fingers. The wooden chair beneath him seemed to threaten tipping over with every creak as he ceaselessly changed position again and again, assuring the waiter that yes, he wanted a few more minutes and no, he hadn't been stood up.

He was starting to doubt those words himself.

Minutes ticked by, and at forty-five he decided Nate was simply not coming. He didn't have the slightest notion to blame him. Matt was just not good enough for Nate, and that was that. No one wanted a goody-two-shoes like him anyway. His heart beat quicker as he felt anger rising in him, in goody-goody Matthew Patrick who had convinced himself he had a chance.

His phone suddenly buzzed, and he nearly ripped his jeans trying to check it.

_Late notice but I cant be there. sorry_

And just like that, the anger was gone, replaced with a dense cloud of blue and black. His eyes started to tear up, and he had a hard time seeing what he was even typing in response.

_No prob_

Stupid Matt. Stupid, _stupid_ Matthew.

His phone rang again, and he was forced to gather himself before ducking into the cool streets to answer.

"Matter! Where are you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Don't sass me, ye son of a bitch" W snapped, in a curiously lilting tone. "Nightmare's out again, but he's done little more than torment some people. Just whack him upside the head a few times and hopefully that'll shut the bastard up"

Matt took breath and wiped the last traces of water from his eyes.

"Yes, sir"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty-ish stuff coming up next!
> 
> *evil laugh*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPEEDEE I WROTE SEMI-SMUT  
> *sighs*

What's a nice boy like you doing out so late?" purred a familiar voice.

Matt clenched his fists, every muscle tensing as he felt the world around him, trying to detect where the voice was really coming from. He was uncharacteristically on edge, and they both knew why. He couldn't tell if he was feeling everything at once, or nothing at all. He was tired of being good, of being the hero, of being _nice_.

"I'm not as nice as you think" he said, eyes darting around in the dark. Nightmare's chuckle rang in his ears, as if he was right behind him. Matt jumped in spite of himself. 

"Not when I'm through with you" taunted the villain, his teasing lilt edged with poison. Matt swallowed thickly, feeling his gut twist. He would not fall for Nightmare's tricks again. And yet part of him desperately wanted to.

Another chuckle, as if his enemy could read his mind. He spun around, still looking. The dark alley stretched before him. 

"You're so naïve, Matter. It's really quite adorable" said Nightmare, suddenly emerging from the shadows. Matt shifted instantly, digging his heels into the pavement and gripping tightly to the energy around him.

Not this time.

"Game's up, Nightmare" he growled. 

Another laugh. God, he hated that laugh. It kept him up at night, tossing and turning in fervor. It sent shivers down his spine, and every time he heard it he could feel Nightmare's hands on him, lingering over his bruises like a ghost. He felt heat pool in his crotch, and he gripped his fists tighter. _No_.

_Yes_.

"Do you really believe that?" Nightmare asked finally, voice still dangerously low and rasping as he began to walk. The pair started to circle each other, eyes flashing and hearts pounding, like two wild animals ready to pounce at the slightest twitch.

Nate loved it. He was drinking in the scent, the sounds, the taste. He could feel Matter's heartbeat in rhythm with his own, hear his breathing hitch every time Nate so much as licked his lips.

He had that imbecile wrapped around his finger, and he was going to use him.

"Your threats are empty, Nightmare" Matt shot back, his voice wavering. No ordinary man would have noticed. But Nate wasn't exactly ordinary. He could pick up and mimic tones and fluctuations of sound in an instant. He heard the waver, and he saw Matter's eyes snap down as soon as their gazes locked.

God, he was fun.

"You're pathetic" purred Nate, reveling in the sound of Matter's tiny choke. As they continued to circle, he let his eyes trail over the pale skin of Matter's neck, the broad, sloping shoulders, and the strong poised hands. He drank in every muscle and vein as they tensed and twitched. He allowed his eyes to linger hungrily at the growing signs of the hero's arousal.

He hadn't even touched the fool yet and he was hard for him.

"And you're a coward" Matt replied, grinning, pretending not to notice Nightmare's unsubtle glances. He hated to admit it, but he did enjoy their little games. Perhaps this one would end like last time. He mind wandered to the feeling of Nightmare's mouth on him, the taste of his innermost being, the feeling of him clenching around him, whining and calling his name.

No. Don't think of that. 

"Don't deny it, Matter. I see it in your eyes"

Matt froze, not realizing his back was to a wall. He couldn't know. "What are you prattling about?" he meant to snap. It came out as a weak, childish accusation.

Nate stepped forward, and Matt made no attempt to run. He fixed his gaze on Nightmare's throat, forcing himself not to think about how it might taste.

His back hit the wall, and he winced. Before he could think about escaping, Nightmare's arms were on either side of him, caging him between the brick and his worst enemy.

One gloved hand gripped his jaw again, and he looked up into Nightmare's eyes. It was like a black hole, sucking him in as he screamed and clawed at the last threads of reality around him.

It was dark. No one would have to know.

Nightmare kissed him, and Matt let him. He let his head fall back against the wall, let his enemy part his lips and taste every crevice. He drank it in, groaning as hands traced his sides delicately.

And suddenly the groans became moans, louder than he'd ever uttered. Nate pressed his tongue to the dent between the neck and shoulder. Matt clenched his teeth and gasped as Nate sucked his earlobe between his lips, nursing it until it was red and bruised.

He kissed the shell of his ear, the butterfly touch sending Matt's legs shaking. He gripped at the wall behind him, desperate for support. 

"You're bad, Matter" Nate murmured into the hero's ear. He grinned a little wider as AntiMatter took a shuddering breath. He could almost hear the hero roll his eyes.

"Shut up. Just... shut up" was all Matt could say.

Nate pulled away for a moment, and their eyes locked. He shrugged. "If you insist" he said, once again flashing a stunning grin. He knew how to play his cards. He was in charge.

There was a moment of silence, the dark air of the alleyway punctuated with heavy breathing. Matt gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring.

"Damn you" he said.

"Damn right" Nightmare replied, without missing a beat. He kissed him again, hot and wet and needy, thrusting his tongue into his mouth with no hesitation.

There was nothing romantic about this relationship, Matt told himself. It was lust and greed and want, an addiction to the taste and touch of the other. It was a need to feel the heat and the madness running through him.

He did not love Nightmare.

Nightmare did not love him.

It was as simple as that.

He felt his chest against the wall now. He had little time to wonder on that, however, as he felt Nightmare's lips on his neck, tracing delicate trails along his skin. Matt winced as the villain bit into his skin, sucking until he cried out in pain before nursing the wound with his tongue.

Nightmare's laughter rang in his ear. Hands trailed down his sides and back, exploring every crevice and cupping every curve, as if he wanted to map out his body and remember it forever. 

Gloved hands came around his waist and brushed his inner thighs. Matt bit his lip and swallowed his moan. He wouldn't be easy. No, he wouldn't.

Nate could feel the hero shaking beneath him, not with fear but anticipation. It was like playing with a shiny new toy. He had complete control, and he wasn't about to let Matter forget that.

He pressed a hand to Matter's center and palmed gently, feeling maniacally delighted as Matt hardened at his touch. The hero could not stop his moans this time. Nate could have sworn he heard some cusses buried within Matter's exclamations of pleasure, and it only made things better.

He rested his chin on AntiMatter's shoulder, tilting his head so his lips were nearly touching the shorter man's ear. 

"There are things I could do to you" he whispered. He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to.

Matt only gasped in response, still responsive to Nate's increasingly rough touch. He ran his hands down the wall, gritting his teeth and trying to stop the shaking in his legs.

"What do you want, Matter?" 

Another moan, and the touch began to lighten. Mewling pitifully, he sought it out. 

"I asked you a question" purred Nate, pulling off his gloves and allowing them to fall to the damp concrete below. "I had to miss a date for this, and I want a straight answer"

Matt gasped. His face was burning. It was humiliating, to submit himself to his worst enemy. His words made his stomach twist as he thought about Nate, probably at a concert or getting drunk, understandably not giving a fuck about him. But as Nightmare continued to caress him, for once in his life, he didn't care. 

"You" he whispered.

"What's that?" Nate asked again, in his annoying sing-song lilt.

"You, dammit!" growled Matt, before his mouth fell open again as Nightmare's touch returned. His mischievous fingers dipped below the waistband of Matt's pants and boxers, seizing his throbbing member in his fist, angling his thumb over the tip, already damp with precum. Matt inhaled shakily as Nate rotated his thumb, spreading hot liquid across his skin.

This villain pressed his hips and growing erection against Matt's backside, and he groaned louder.

"Shame, too. He was hot" muttered Nightmare.

Matt flushed again.

"Just get it over with" he muttered. 

For a moment, Nightmare paused, retracting his hand. For just a split second, something in his heart shifted, and a pang of discomfort shit through him. It was guilt, and pity, and compassion.

It was something like love.

Nightmare pushed away the tiny spark of a thought, grinding under his heel until he was certain it was gone forever. He didn't love. He couldn't love.

Matter moaned again, and Nate grinned.

But he could want.

With bare, shaking fingers, Nate shifted his trousers and boxer, hissing as his erection sprang free. AntiMatter seemed to understand instinctively, and hastily followed suit, although his trembling fingers could barely get hold of anything.

"Someone's eager" he breathed against AntiMatter's ear. The hero shuddered, biting his lip. At Nightmare's next words, his jaw clamped down hard enough to draw blood. 

"My little slut" Nightmare whispered. Matt could only whimper in response, face burning and lips quivering. He'd heard such actions under such circumstances would hurt. Nate's voice and face floated through his mind and he wanted to scream.

And AntiMatter was deathly afraid.

Nate had never been the shy type. But he heard AntiMatter's shaky breaths, which sounded suspiciously like tears, and felt his body shaking with genuine fear. 

And something in him clicked.

Matt caught his breath when Nightmare seized him roughly by the shoulders and flipped him back around, spinning them both until Nightmare's back was to the wall. Hastily, he recovered his trousers, blushing furiously.

Matt stared at Nightmare, trying and trying to tear his eyes away. The deep brown eyes were narrowed with mischief, the thick blue hair was matted and messy, and the full lips, wet and bruised, nearly made his heart stop. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to his throat.

Nate froze. 

This was new.

Matt felt Nightmare's muscles tense under his tongue, and he grinned inwardly to himself. At last, he could taste control, and he wanted to feel Nightmare writhe underneath him until he screamed.

Reaching around and running his hands under Matter's backside, Nate took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, pushing AntiMatter away from him and flashing another pearly white Cheshire smile.

He was in charge.

"On your knees" he commanded, in a sickly sweet voice.

AntiMatter paused for only a second, and Nate noticed. Trying to cover his heart attack up, the hero looked up and smirked, leaning as close as possible to Nightmare.

"Why?" he asked. Simply, innocently, childishly. He was playing coy, and Nate loved it. 

His hands continued to run across Matt's back and thighs. The hero pressed closer, and Nate bit his lip to stifle a moan. He tightened his grip on Matt's ass, and it was the hero's turn to push down a gasp.

"Because I said so" Nate purred. His eyes flashed with a fire Matt had never seen before, not even in the heat of battle. It was power, and hunger, and visceral need. It sent his heart racing and his stomach turning and blood boiling all at once. He felt an overwhelming urge to kiss Nightmare until sun came up, but the spark frightened him. Swallowing his pride, he knelt on the damp concrete. 

Matt wasn't a fool. He knew what Nightmare wanted. Even more terrifying, he knew he wanted it, too.

The air was silent for several painfully awkward moments. Part of Matt wanted to run. Part wanted to throw up. But the winning side wanted Nightmare. Wanted his worst enemy, his greatest foe. Wanted to taste him, to feel him, to know him as intimately as possible.

He didn't know why. 

He did know. He simply wouldn't admit it.

Nate cleared his throat, and AntiMatter looked up at him. For a split second, his dark eyes darted down, but he tore them away and looked directly at Nate. The villain cocked an eyebrow, a simple gesture with a thousand meanings.

Matt swallowed hard. Nightmare's tongue came out to wet his lips, and he blushed. His ears and cheeks burned bright red, visible even in the dark.

The silence continued for a few moments, before Nate let out a sigh that was meant to be of annoyance, but in practice sounded rather amused. Matt stiffened slightly as Nightmare slid his fingers into his fluffy mop of brown curls. He stared down at him, dark eyes drilling into his.

"Open" 

Matt did, the flush worsening. He'd never felt so humiliated in his life. Why, then, was he doing this?

He still wouldn't answer himself.

There was a pressure on the back of his head, pulling him forward. He closed his eyes, let Nightmare fill his mouth until he could barely breathe.

He still didn't care.

Nate's quick gasp filled the air. Matt nearly winced as his fingers gripped his hair, tugging his scalp to the point that his eyes watered. He blinked a couple times before setting to work.

Nate took another shuddering breath, leaning his head against the wall as the world spun around him. It didn't just feel good, either. He felt power, and dominance, and something warm and affectionate and gentle that he did his best crush.

It didn't work.

"God, Matt" he murmured. He didn't have enough strength to say the hero's full name. Had Matt heard him, he might have panicked. As it was, he was rather busy.

As he continued his ministrations, Nightmare's moans and whispers continued around him. It was humiliating, but there was a rush to it as his tongue darted across hot skin. He would have imagined himself in such a situation, even in his wildest dreams. But it all felt right, and for once logic ceased to be a factor in his decisions.

He hated to admit it, but he sort of liked it. Nightmare always did this to him; made him abandon his morals, throw caution to the wind and dive head first into the deep, alluring abyss that he tried to hard to avoid.

Nate's toes curled as he felt Matt's tongue on him, tasting and teasing. He gripped the brown fluff even harder, paying no mind to Matt's tiny outburst, except to moan as vibrations ran through his body.

As his moans increased, he wondered how he should go about it. Part of him wanted to watch Matter swallow, enjoy the sudden shock and watch eyes widen and cheeks redden until he fell to the ground in shame. But the other part wanted to pull away, see just how to hero looked with cum all over his face, red and panting and shocked.

Matt wasn't and idiot. He knew what was coming. But Nightmare's death grip on his hair held him firmly in place, and he was too frightened to pull away.

So he swallowed, wrinkling his nose and squeezing his eyes shut as Nightmare nearly screamed, before chuckling to look down at his worst enemy.

Matt managed to stand, shaking. He placed a hand on the wall as he tried to hold himself steady. His mouth tasted strange and his heart was pounding so loud he was certain Nightmare could here it. 

Nate redressed to the sound of Matt's and finally looked up, gently taking Matt's chin and guiding the hero's eyes to look into his own. There was something familiar in their depths, as if he'd seen AntiMatter somewhere else, off the battlefield. He wondered if they might have bumped into each other on the street, or shared a park bench.

Perhaps they were classmates. Friends. Lovers.

Absurd thought, really.

"Why?"

Matt's voice cracked as the word tumbled out. He himself wasn't even sure what he was asking, or whom the question had been directed towards. Everything he'd just done felt as though it had been pulled from a nightmare, or a daydream.

Part of him wished it had.

Nightmare's full lips curled into a smile, still cradling Matt's face in his hand, stroking his calloused thumb across his cheekbone in an oddly affectionate gesture.

"You're just a fun little toy, Matter" he trilled, pressing his other hands to Matt's thigh and tracing up and down. Matt shivered. 

"Tell me, Nightmare" Matt winced. Nightmare hummed lazily as he pressed his lips to Matt's neck. Seconds passed. Matt was too afraid to move.

Nightmare seized his face again and smirked. "I like to see you so helpless" he replied, leaning forward to kiss Matt.

The hero accepted, closing his eyes and melting into the embrace. His mind was reeling, Nightmare was lying, and he had no idea what to think anymore. 

"I suppose you'll be going, now" quipped Matt, when they had pulled apart.

"I suppose I will" smirked Nate, in a scarily accurate impression of Matt's voice, stopping to retrieve his gloves. He grinned at the shock on the hero's face when he heard it.

"Until next time" 

And then he was gone, faster then Matt could blink.

The weight of the past began to settle, and he sank to his knees, pressed his face into his hands, trying to push the memories of the past hour and a half to the back of his mind for all eternity. Hero, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, mom...
> 
> Big thanks to everyone who's been putting up with my sporadic update schedule. Actual plot will be returning soon!
> 
> Love ya!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting asked by a few comments: Why don't our heroes recognize "who they're making out with"? Short answer, they wouldn't let themselves even if they did. Neither Nightmare and Matter nor Matt and Nate really know each other intimately yet, and therefor would have a hard time recognizing each other. Furthermore, while in each persona, they pretend the other does not exist. Antimatter ignores Nate, and so on. 
> 
> On another note, I firmly believe that Morgan and Stephanie are wonderful people and perfect for Matt and Nate. This is merely a "what if" kind of scenario. I know this had been said before but I felt the need to address it, especially after the events of last chapter. When writing RPs, it's really important to acknowledge reality and fiction. 
> 
> I'll end my rant here. This chapter is really short, so we'll all agree to pretend it's longer than it actually is. Thanks in advance, y'all!

"Nate, what the hell were you doing?" Matt demanded, practically forcing Nate's t-shirt off and meticulously inspecting every inch of skin for any other bruises. His fingers were cool against Nate's hot skin, and it took all his willpower not to moan.

He'd returned home at roughly 2AM, tired, sweaty, and covered with bruises from Matter's lips. Matt had been asleep at the counter, an assignment scattered in front of him. He'd woken as soon as Nate had opened the door, rushing over in an instant like a worried mother.

"Nate, these are some serious bruises. What happened?" Matt demanded, pressing an ice pack into Nate's hands. 

"Party"

The word slipped out and the look of anger on Matt's face was enough to make Nate wish the ground would open up and swallow him whole, preferably sending him to hell along the way. 

"You... what?"

Nate clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his palms with a sharp pain. "I went to a party. There was a crazy girl there. That's all"

Silence passed for a few moments as Matt's face became blank, his eyes darting about as he processed the information. Before Nate could speak, Matt's face suddenly flushed red and contorted into an expression of fury he had never seen before. His heart went into his throat, and he took a sharp breath as Matt spoke.

"That's all? _That's all?"_ he nearly shrieked, planting his hands on his hips, visibly shaking with anger. "You left me at that café like an idiot, just sitting and waiting for someone who never planned to show up!"

"Matt, I - "

"I don't _care_ about your apologies, Nate" Matt snapped, taking a hand through his hair in frustration. He fell silent, worrying his lip and taking a few breaths.

Hesitantly, Nate reached forward to cup Matt's jaw gently. The brunette didn't flinch away, and Nate's heart pounded with relief. 

He was such an ass. He didn't deserve this at all.

But God, he needed Matt. He was selfish and greedy and he _needed_ him. Someone to make him feel whole, feel right. He'd spent too many years pretending not to care, and now he was learning to feel all over again. 

He'd forgotten how to love when his parents passed away. But he could remember now. It was rushing minds and beating hearts and an ache in your chest when there was no one to hold you close and remind you everything was alright.

But it was also yelling, and crying, and long, silent nights and unfeeling kisses. It was ugly and flawed and so, so very far from what it seemed in the fairytales.

And Nate wanted to tell Matt everything. That Matt made him feel again, feel good and real and _happy._ And Matt made him feel like he deserved it. Those big brown eyes would look at him with love and adoration and suddenly he felt perfect, like something worth being kissed and held and loved.

He opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm so sorry" he whispered, tilting Matt's chin up so he could look him in the eye. His heart clenched with a sharp stab as he saw tears forming in the corners of Matt's eyes.

"I'm sorry, too" he replied softly.

Nate let out a breath. "You hate me, don't you?"

"I don't hate you, idiot. I...I don't know"

Instead of responding, Nate leaned forward. Matt shied away, pulling out of Nate's gentle hold and backing up a few steps. With every creak of the hardwood floor, Nate felt himself get smaller and smaller.

"Just go to bed" Matt muttered, rubbing his eyes and starting up the short ladder to the top bunk. Nate couldn't speak, and he knew if he tried he would burst into tears. 

Matt retrieved a pair of headphones from a small cubby he'd attached to his bunk, plugging them in and preparing to start his music. Just before he did, his sad brown gaze fell on Nate again. The watery tears that had been forming seemed to have frozen to ice, leaving a cold, emotionless stare.

"Goodnight, Nate" Matt, his voice stilted and hollow. Then he rolled over and fell silent.

Nate couldn't bring himself to go to his own bunk, where he and Matt had slept together multiple nights over the past several weeks. It felt violating, just to approach the familiar grey bedsheets.

Without taking off his jeans, Nate collapsed on the couch, lying on his side and curling into a ball. The dorm was completely silent. He couldn't even hear Matt breathing. He tried squeezing his eyes shut, but every time he did Matt's broken-hearted face flickered before his eyes, and his own heart would start to ache.

He was getting what he deserved, wasn't he? Rejected, lonely, hated. That was all he'd ever allowed himself to be. Caring was a luxury super villains could not afford. 

Nathan Sharp was bad. He was selfish, and bitter, and foolish. Trying to keep people who deserved better than he, hating the world for giving him his due, falling in love like some empty headed fairytale character.

Reaching up to rub his eye, Nate started as he felt water across his cheek. Hastily, he wiped it away, sniffling a bit pathetically and letting out a sigh, closing his eyes again and allowing the tears to flow.

* * *

The next morning, Matt was gone. Nate called in sick for all of his classes, barely able to bring himself to get off the couch. His heart felt like a rock in his chest and he had a splitting headache from god-knows-what. 

Staring at the ceiling, unmoving and hardly blinking, Nate covered his eyes and promptly wished to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tour guide voice* If you look to your left you can see a hint of plot in the distance. We'll be coming up on it in a few chapter, I think!
> 
> Honest, guys. Plot will return soon. Love you all!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this "plot" you speak of?

Matt's dreams, when he could remember them, were often filled with throngs of screaming people and the ever-popular theme of failing all your loved ones and being responsible for the end of the world.

No wonder he'd had insomnia in his younger days.

In the middle of the night, he'd managed to unplug his head phones whilst tossing and turning, thus pausing his music and sending him into silence.

Until the screaming started.

Matt had read somewhere that ninety-five percent of all dreams were forgotten ten minutes after waking from them. Now, staring in the mirror at his bedraggled, exhausted form, he wished it could be a full hundred percent.

He'd been pulled, slowly, as if on a primitive stretching torture device. His arms were burning as they were pulled from his sockets, and his hands and feet had long since gone numb and cold.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat, or his breath. Just the screams.

He had no idea who was screaming. It sounded familiar, not quite low but not high pitched, either. Maybe it was a civilian he'd saved a few months ago, or the kid who fell out of the window. 

That was what he was telling himself now. But he couldn't shake the idea that, one way or another, that scream was from someone close to him. And he had no doubt that whoever the scream belonged to, he had caused them that pain.

He remembered his own screams as the pain in his limbs worsened, joining the unseen stranger's. Black and blue flashed before his eyes, and a haunting melody, eerie and grotesque, floated by his ears.

Matt woke up in cold sweat, clutching the sheets and wiping tear tracks from his face.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth. Rubbing his eyes, he nearly yelped when memories came flooding back. His stomach twisted, and he nearly fell out of the bunk and tumbled into the bathroom, heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Red-faced and thoroughly sick, Matt grimaced as the bitter taste remained. He downed three cups of water and convinced himself everything was normal. 

He heard Nate's soft, shaky snores and felt sick all over again.

He wanted to wake his roommate, apologize, and tell him it was okay. Sure, Matt was hurt, but he didn't own Nate and he damn well didn't want to lose him over something as stupid as a party.

  
_Better that then over your relationship with your arch nemesis_ his mind added unhelpfully. Resisting the urge to throw up again, Matt cast one last glance towards Nate. 

He looked peaceful, even happy. His lips were parted, his cheeks were flushed, and his hair had flopped over his eyes. The early light shone across his face, illuminating two pale tracks across his reddened cheeks, doubtless the result of a long night of pain.

Matt turned back to mirror.

_You're disgusting._

_A disgrace._

_A failure of a hero and a boyfriend and a person._

"Shut up" Matt muttered feebly, pressing his forehead against the mirror as he leaned forward. The glass was cool against his face, and he took a brief moment of comfort.

Groggily, as if in a strange trance, he dressed himself, taking extra care to kick his car shirt under the coffee table. But as he bent down to retrieve an old T-shirt, he winced. Searing pain crisscrossed against his back. Turning around and glancing in the mirror, he could see scratches from where Nightmare had shoved him against the wall. Matt winced again, rubbing the scabbing skin before pulling a T-shirt over it. 

He didn't have anywhere to go. He just had to get away. For an hour, or two, or forever. He had always been a hero, standing his ground, gritting his teeth in the face of danger and pushing back. 

He was so tired of fighting.

So he ran.

It was still dim outside, with only the traces of sunrise. 

Matt wasn't going to catch a plane to Cambodia and live out the rest of his days as a hermit. He just needed to clear his head. He'd visit a nearby café or bookstore, just to clear his head. He'd come back, and he could pretend everything was back to normal.

_Are you going to spend the rest of your life pretending?_

Glancing behind him, Matt watched as the light to his dorm (three floors up, four windows from the left) flickered on. Nate was awake.

What was he doing? What was he thinking?

Matt forced himself to ignore those questions, squaring his shoulders and promptly walking in the opposite direction without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

Nate woke feeling as if his insides had been scooped out and replaced with lead.

His face felt stiff, and as he wiped dried tear trails from his cheeks he realized why. His head was spinning, and his legs were shaking so that he could hardly stand. Collapsing back on the couch, he pressed his head into his hands and forced himself to recall his dream.

It hadn't been dark, per say. But he hadn't the slightest idea what he was seeing. Sometimes it was green, sometimes red, sometimes blackness. But there was always the voices.

Nate had a talent for recalling voices. He could remember Matt's voice, and Mark's and Jack's and his history professor's and the old grocery lady five blocks down.

He had no idea who was speaking in his dream. Their voices shook and wavered, and when he tried to respond his throat burned and ached as if he was swallowing flaming coals.

He could smell blood and burning flesh.

And the voices got louder, and louder. The chaotic air swirled around him, pressing against his chest and face with white hot force. In spite of himself, the screams were ripped from his throat. His chest was imploding, his ears were filled with the sounds of his bones cracking. The screams worsened and multiplied, and he wasn't sure who they belonged to anymore.

The last he heard was one he knew all too well.

The birds were chirping irritatingly from outside, and he was tempted to throw open his window and knock them out of the trees with a quick scream.

Not that it would matter. There would be more birds to come.

Nate's world seemed to slow down as he dragged himself off the couch and forced himself to pour a bowl of cereal. He had the habit of pouring his milk first, to get the best milk-to-cereal ratio, a habit Matt had never ceased to tease him about. At the thought of Matt, his spirits sunk even lower.

It had to stop. The sneaking about, the thievery, the lies.

It was simple to lie to people you didn't acre about.

It was near impossible to lie to people you loved.

But it was the easiest thing in the world to lie to your loved ones if you convinced yourself it was for their own good.

Nate was a foolish soul, with nothing more than a sharp wit and cunning to boot. He didn't know much, and often felt as if he knew even less in comparison to Matt.

But he knew he loved Matt, more than anything in the world.

Cereal long since gone soggy, Nate pushed the bowl aside and buried his head in his arms.

He'd never been one for choosing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, guys. I swear. Also, get ready for some more Mark! Cameos are going to start coming fast, so be ready. I'm a total sucker for cameos.
> 
> Much love!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, the plot has returned! 'Tis a glorious day!

Most students at Matt's university suspected the bookstore coffee shop combo near the campus had been built in the early 1900s, and very little had changed since then.

The store was made of weatherbeaten bricks, with wooden shutters and window frames that had been painted a dozen times in the past. The windowsills were always lined with some kind of seasonal flower. At the moment, it was edelweiss. Outside the store, several metal shelves displayed discounted books and magazines. The coffee shop was the most modern addition the the building.

It was mostly pastels, with a soft yellow floral wallpaper and white wooden tables and chairs. Everything they served had a name based around a book title.

Overall, it was nice.

Matt stuffed his hands further into his pockets and shuffled inside the store, acknowledging the friendly staff member's greeting with little more than a grunt.

He felt sick, and tired. He was only half sure of how he'd wound up in the bookstore in the first place. It was like being drunk all over again.

"Matt?"

Mark was sitting at one of the tables. Despite his own condition, Matt immediately noticed something was off. Mark's hair was a tangled mess, and there were prominent dark splotches under his eyes, as if he'd been tossing and turning all night and still failed to get any rest. His coffee looked cold, and his dark brown eyes were glazed over with exhaustion.

"Hey, Mark" Matt managed to mutter feebly, taking the seat across from his friend. "Is everything okay? You look awful"

Mark shrugged, not responding.  
Silence passed for a few moments before Mark cut in.

"You don't look so good, yourself" he said. "Are _you_ okay?"

Matt opened his mouth to say yes, he was just tired, everything was fine, because if he said it enough times, he'd believe it. There'd be no Nightmare, no fighting with his best friend, no bruises on his neck and no hollow, black feeling in his chest.

He tried to say yes.

"No. Not at all"

Mark's brow furrowed, and he offered an apologetic smile. "That sucks. Did you... want to talk about it?"

Matt sighed, rubbing his temple. On the one hand, venting to Mark about his love life was an awkward situation at best, and he was very unsure whether or not Mark would be able to offer advice of any kind. On the other hand, he already felt like he was being suffocated under the weight of all his secrets.

"It's Nate" he managed. When Mark didn't respond, Matt plowed ahead, speaking quickly and hardly pausing to breathe.

"It's not his fault, we both messed up and now I can't fix it. There's something wrong with _me_ but I know Nate and I know he's going to think its completely his fault, and I can't let him think that, cuz - "

Matt cut himself off, face flushing bright red and the words still on the tip of his tongue, bittersweet and foreign.

Mark raised an eyebrow.

"Because?"

"Nothing" Matt stammered. "It's not important" he added.

There was silence as Mark decided whether to press the issue or not. But before he could deliver his verdict on the matter, he shifted in his seat and suddenly winced, rubbing his left shoulder. Matt bit his lip, wondering what had happened.

"Mark, what - "

"Nothing!" Mark snapped, in a tone that would have terrified some freshmen. As it was, Matt was taken aback.

"We can't both have 'nothing'" he said, trying to find a spot of humor. He was rewarded with a glare from his companion that seemed oddly sad.

"Mark, come on" Matt insisted. "I want to help"

Mark sighed, seeming to give in. Matt could see again just how beaten down his friend really was. He wondered what Mark had been up to that had managed to make him look ten years older at times.

"Sean's been a little shit, if you must know" Mark sighed, but there was no anger in his voice. Matt had half a mind to hug him.

"What do you - "

"What do I mean? I don't even know!" Mark snapped, nearly slamming his fists on the table. "He barely eats, and when I wake up he's never there, either"

His face had gone a bit red with frustration, but he went on, voice rising in tone and attracting the attention of some other customers at the bookstore, peeking over their books and through nearby shelves.

"I'm worried about him" Mark said, forcing himself to speak quieter. "I'll come back to the dorm late and he'll be sitting at the table, scribbling away at something. He won't even say hello to me"

Mark let out another sigh, running a hand through his hair, which was quickly fading back to black from its previous red.

 "Have you tried talking to him?" Matt offered feebly.

"He won't speak. Well, barely" Mark said. 

Silence. Matt almost wanted to snicker. Two weird college kids with some obnoxious boyfriend troubles.

"I should go. Hopefully Nate hasn't burned down the dorms yet" Matt chuckled weakly, starting to rise.

"Are you gonna tell me your 'nothing'?" Mark teased, his voice as dull as his eyes.

Matt shrugged. "I love Nate. That's all" he said, giving Mark a small wave and turning to leave.

The walk back the dorm seemed a little shorter than it had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could it all mean? OOoooOOOoooOOOH!
> 
> *spooky ghost noises*


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, an overly angsty OOC chapter

I found the notes looking for supplies

Duct tape, if you must know. Tyler fell out the window making a stupid joke. I left to find some tape to help clean up the shattered glass so no idiot would impale them self or some shit like that.

The tape was buried under a pile of paper, tied with a rubber band. They fell down with a thud, scattering across the floor as the band snapped. 

I can't quite explain why they caught my attention. 

They were notes, written in several different ink colors and scattered across all manner of paper; pages torn from notebooks, loose leaf, computer paper, and sticky notes. The handwriting was a messy sort of cursive, intelligible but only after a few minutes of getting used to it.

The content of the notes was mostly complex formulas and sketches that looked like they'd been ripped right out of a science fiction story. It all looked like Chinese to me, nothing more than some misplaced technology notes.

And yet. . .

Ethan's voice called from the classroom, demanding tape in a friendly manner. I was shaken from my trance, quickly collecting the tape and turning to go. Whoever the papers belonged to would surely find them.

...right?

The next thing I knew I had the papers under my arm and was emerging from the closet with tape and a teasing grin in Ethan's direction as he held his hands up in preparation to catch the tape. I obliged, tossing the tape and stuffing the papers into my bag as class ended before anyone could as me any questions.

I still couldn't explain what about them was so fascinating. I could almost imagine my backpack getting heavier with each step as I carried around my forbidden cargo, which was more likely than not some student's notes I had just stolen.

Whatever, I told myself. They'll be fine.

Mark was out when I got home. My shoulders burned with the weight of textbooks and lecture notes, but I couldn't bring myself to care about them. Shuffling through my bag, I retrieved the papers and started to examine them a bit more closely.

The numbers still didn't make much sense, but there was a name on the top, in pencil, in marker, in blue and black ink: Lucy G. As I flipped through the pages again, I noticed they were also dated, spanning four years between the pages. Not a single day was left out. There were notes dated "December 25" and "October 31" and "January 1".

But something was off.

As I flipped through the notes, their dates drawing closer, the handwriting started to change. It was shakier, and larger, not unlike a child's. It felt like seeing improvement in reverse. The diagrams, too, became messier and less intelligible.

I felt like a detective as I flipped back to the first page. September 12, nearly twenty years ago. The notes suddenly felt ancient in my hands. At least now I was sure I wouldn't be stealing them.

With a deep breath, I began to read.

* * *

_When asked, Lucy Greenfield would assert herself as "normal"_

_She was, in reality, one of the most famous supers of the LA area, well on her way to a promising full time career with the League's international work._

_She could easily twist the light and colors around her body to appear completely different, at least to the eye. As a baby, she'd mimick the faces in her dreams, much to the surprise of her parents._

_But that was a lot harder to explain than just saying "I'm Lucy and I speak Swedish"_

_She would graduate in a little under 7 monthA with a degree in Biotechnics and a career in international sciences._

_"I need you to examine this. It's pretty sturdy, as far as we know. Just run some tests, determine if we should destroy it or something" W had said over her earpiece as studied the package that had been waiting at the rondevue. She'd been told it was inactive, but as soon as she'd touched it her fingers started to buzz and burn._

_"Do you copy, Reflector?" asked W, his calm, even voice sounding strained. Lucy knew he'd been dealing with his kids, both sweet faced angels doubtless going to grow into very refined men just like their father._

_"Yes, sir. I'll have the result by the end of the week" she said, slipping her goggles back on and bounding away, the package oddly light in her hands._

* * *

It had started raining when Mark was making his way back to the dorms after spending nearly the whole day in the city, thinking.

He was worried. The concern was so great it blocked out the cold droplets running down his face and back, and the unpleasant squelch of soaked grass beneath his feet as he shoes were slowly ruined by the mud. Through the rain, he could just make out a handful of dorms with their lights still on. His own was one of these, glowing comfortably. His chest suddenly lifted as he imagined Jack doing his homework, working on his second or third can of cream soda.

Up a mountain of stairs, down a hall that was always too hot or too cold, hesitant knocking on the door.

"It's open!" came the voice from inside, sounding strained and sore.

Instantly, Mark's chest clenched with worry. He pushed open the door to reveal an ordinary scene that should have calmed him, but didn't.

Jack was hunched over a sizable stack of papers, not even looking upwards as he gave an acknowledging grunt towards Mark's presence. Licking his lips, he took a breath and approached, slinging his backpack across one of the kitchen stools and gently placing a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Sean? What're you - " he started, trying to look over the notes.

They were a hopeless tangle of calculations, equations, and notes that could very well have been Chinese. his head hurt just looking over them, but before he could finish his question, Jack shoved the papers to the side and shrugged Mark off his shoulder. "Fuck off, Mark! Mind your own business!"

His chest cramped again, painfully tight and sharp. His mouth is suddenly dry and for once in his obnoxiously loud life he's speechless.

"Look, Sean, don't keep secrets from me" he managed finally, retreating to the kitchen to start a late cup of coffee.

"It's not a secret, Mark. Jus' some notes, that's all!"

Jack's tone was angry and sharp. He never sounded like that, unless he was getting riled up about social justice issues. Biting his lip, Mark forced himself to be silent, waiting patiently as he waited for the coffee to finish. Jack said nothing, barely making any noise until Mark made his way back to the table, taking another sip of coffee and opening his laptop.

"Sorry" he muttered, shuffling his notes so Mark had no way to read them.

The rest of the evening passed in complete silence as Mark tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, holy balls guys we just hit 1000 hits that fucking amazing I mean wow. Thank you so much 
> 
> Love y'all :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We now return to pointless angst. Enjoy!
> 
> XP

Matt had always been one for a good, long shower.

Even as a little kid, he insisted on bath time as often as possible, preferably with bubbles. He would then splash about and song off key renditions of various cartoon songs before his mother explained the family simply could not afford a large bubble bath every night. 

"Besides, Matthew, you don't get into anything dirty. You don't need a bath every night"

The next day he came home coated in mud and wound up in pretty big trouble. 

The warm water hit his back as he stepped into the tiny college dorm shower. It was plain and unassuming, with frosted glass doors and ordinary white tiles. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, feeling the steam press against his arms and chest like a heavy blanket.

The water was scalding, but he didn't mind. As he stood there, watching skin turn pinker, Matt began to think about Nate, and the conversation he'd had with him. As any sensible person knows, the shower is the best place to reminisce on past experiences, be they pleasant or otherwise.

He remember Nate's eyes, sad and sunken and utterly miserable as he, Matt, had lashed out at him, yelling and shoving him aside and not even bothering to help him with some of his bruises.

The sadder, darker part of him mind believed he deserved it. Nate had been rude, but at the same time, Matt couldn't shake the feeling he might be lying. 

Before he could ponder any longer, another unwelcome thought popped into his head.

_You don't deserve him either, Matthew_

Matt licked his lips nervously and tasted salt, realizing his tears had gone unbeknownst to him as he stood under the water. 

He also realized, as he paused to wipe away his tears, that he'd been humming softly. He started to hum again, wondering where he's heard the music. It was some angsty little pop song he'd heard on the radio that morning. The lyrics had long since faded from his mind, but the tune, a sad, shrill melody, had been circling through his head all day. It was comparable to a constant ringing in ones ears, only pleasanter.

Matt sighed and reached for the shampoo before all the hot water ran out. The song repeated itself, blocking out the thoughts that were desperately trying to crowd into Matt's mind.

* * *

A song was pounding in Nate's ears as he made his way back to the dorms. His ears were starting to hurt from having been stretched around earbuds for so long, but he couldn't bring himself to care terribly. 

He hoped Matt was home.

He'd spent the whole day wondering what he should say to him. Granted, he wasn't going to come clean and admit he was a wanted criminal who had fucked his archnemesis in a dark alleyway, but there were other ways to be truthful. 

Not about the bruises, though. 

Nate was convinced that trust was the most important thing in a relationship of any kind. And he trusted Matt with his life. It seemed fair that Matt should feel the same. But Nate had been an ass, and Matt was angry. So he promised himself he would be as truthful as possible.

He couldn't tell Matt the whole truth, not yet. Not ever, really. It was a dangerous secret, and knowing it would make Matt even more of a target. 

That's what Nate told himself, ignoring the well known fact that anything is excruciatingly simple to do once you have convinced yourself it is for someone else's "own good".

Matt didn't seem to be home as Nate opened the dorm door, not pulling out his earbuds. There was a handful of papers and Matt's laptop sitting on the kitchen island. Nate couldn't tell if the odd feeling in his chest was relief or guilt.

With a bitter sigh, he took a spot at the island and dug out his laptop. There was an assignment that he'd put off for a week now, and it was starting to bother him.

The music was still playing in his ears, and he couldn't concentrate on the screen. He played with his hoodie strings, drew nonsense music notes on some nearby paper, anything except thinking about Matt or his homework.

It didn't help that his music was acting funny. He assumed it was a problem with the earbuds, but as the music continued, he wasn't so sure. Whenever the song would lull for a bridge or a drop, he could hear strains of another song that sounded vaguely familiar. Without noticing, he'd started to draw the notes for it on his paper.

Fully aware he looked a bit odd, Nate pulled out his earbuds and strained his ears. Instantly, he was met with an onslaught of sound. Running water from the shower, shouting from outside, and a quiet voice humming from within the bathroom.

_Matthew._

Nate's hands started to shake and he rose, the floor a little unsteady under his feet. He left his hoodie hanging on the chair and laptop open to his untouched assignment.

The three or four steps to the bathroom were more like an eternity. Nate knew he was exaggerating, but as he inched closer to the door he was certain the floorboards were quaking beneath his feet.

He didn't notice his shaking hands until he tried to open the door.

Deep breath.

The room was slightly steamy, and the mirror was fogged over. Sure enough, there was a figure in the shower, still humming. Nate recognized the tune now, and ignored the resounding guilt in his chest. It was a simple tune about a breakup and sorrow. Nothing more, and nothing less.

And yet it hurt.

Matt had surely heard the door open and close, but refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he remained in the shower, humming softly and repetitively. 

Nate's shirt was off before he knew what he was doing. The shower was small but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to mind. His belt made an alarming jangle, and Matt's humming came to an abrupt end. 

"Nate? What're doing?"

No need for identification. Matt already knew.

Despite the clouds of steam floating throughout the room, Nate's mouth ran dry. His jaw clamped tighter as he tried to speak.

"I...was gonna, you know...join you"

There was silence as Nate mentally steeled himself aggression. But when the silence broke; it was not with screaming or yelling. It was laughter, honest, genuine laughter that Nate had thought he might never hear again.

"It's a tight squeeze, Nate" said Matt, still giggling.

Nate found himself grinning sideways. "All the better" he teased.

Matt let out a sigh as Nate opened the shower door, wincing at the heat. 

* * *

 Matt heard Nate come in when he opened the dorm room door.

His heart had clenched and he'd swallowed thickly, only allowing his voice to break the tiniest bit.

He hummed in the shower before. If Nate heard him again, so what? 

Taking a breath and starting the chorus again, he found himself leaning against the wall of the shower, listening. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to hear. Nate leaving? Coming in and begging forgiveness?

Whatever he wanted, Matt would happily give.

Stepping back under the slightly colder water, Matt closed his eyes and continued his humming, allowing the water to run down his back. 

He would wait.

And eternity passed, during which Matt began to wonder if he'd misheard a person at the door, before the bathroom door creaked open, and Matt nearly shouted with relief. But he stopped himself and continued humming, knowing Nate couldn't very well see him from behind the foggy, frosted glass.

Straining his ears through the patter of water, Matt could just make out the soft shushing of fabric. Before he had time to think, Nate's belt jangled loudly and Matt's face went even redder. He forgot to hum as his throat went dry and a thousand butterflies erupted in his stomach. He swallowed hard.

"Nate? What're you doing?"

_Please don't notice my voice is shaking._

There was a pause, during which Matt fully expected Nate to walk straight out and go back to his work.

"I...was gonna, you know...join you"

It sounded like a question, nervous and shaky, like a child asking for another cookie after they'd already had two; fully expecting a no but allowing themselves to hope just a little. Matt found his lips curling into a wide smile, and before he knew it his chest was shaking and his eyes were watering as he laughed, long and loud.

_Nate._

"It's a tight squeeze, Nate" Matt managed, and he could almost hear Nate's smile.

"All the better" he replied, stepping towards the shower. Matt heaved a breath and made room for him, swallowing a few more butterflies.

It _was_ a tight fit, and their chests were almost touching when they faced each other. They both smiled and suddenly there was laughter on both sides, holding each other for support as the laughed at nothing until their sides hurt.

Then Nate cupped Matt's jaw in his hands and kissed him, hard, tasting salt water on his lips and feeling him smile. He pulled him closer, skin against skin, and kissed his harder, ignoring the hot tears rolling out of his own eyes.

It was still a tight fit but they were kissing and crying and it wasn't so bad, in a way.

Years passed before the water got cold and they were sent out squealing, faces flushed and soaked. They stood in the steam for just a moment, gazing at each other like lovesick puppies. Coal black against warm brown. Nate stroked Matt's cheek gently, brushing a few wet curls out of his face. 

"I love you" he whispered.

Matt felt a hot sting in the corners of his eyes and he sniffled, giggling. "Gosh, I'm like a school kid. Look what you do to me, you moron" he teased. "I love you, too" he added, standing up to press his lips against Nate's

They fell asleep in each others arms for the first time in what seems like forever that night.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different style this time, cuz everyone loves some good OOC right?

My head hurts.

That's the only thing I'm sure of right now.

I think I'm dying.

Maybe I'm already dead.

I've got to stop.

I've _got_ to.

But my throat is aching and my tongue doesn't listen to my brain's command. 

I want to scream.

Of course, I can't.

Part of me wants to laugh at how absolutely hopeless this is. 

I can't remember much, anymore.

I think I've got a name. It's faded, like the face of someone you knew when you were very young. Fuzzy around the edges, foreign and vacant.

Shh...

Shaaa...

I can't remember.

How long have I been here?

Why does my head hurt?

Where's Mark?

  
_Who_ is Mark?

* * *

His hands work mechanically, fingers flickering over bits and pieces as if he's done this his whole life. 

His jaw stretches and he yawns. I forgot he needs sleep.

Five more minutes. He'll live. I'll make sure of that.

I need him. 

She wasn't enough.

But this one...

He'll do.

His hands are dry and cracked, scars stretching across his palms and fingers. His fingernails are haphazardly long. I guess it's been a while since he cut them.

It's almost done.

If only the bastard would shut up.

Mark this and Mark that.

Mark is fine. I won't hurt him. There. Are you happy?

* * *

The voice never has any emotion. It's just cold and dead and sends shivers through my whole body.

If I've even got one anymore.

I miss my favorite hoodie. I stole it from Mark and spilled beer on it. He made me keep it after that. It was always so warm and cozy, and never seemed to loose his scent.

I can remember.

Red. Black. Smiling. Glasses.

Yes, yes, _yes_.

As quickly as it comes, it goes. Like trying to cup water in your hands. No matter how hard you squeeze your fingers, it trickles out all too quickly.

I wonder if I can still cry.

Mark.

That name again.

Is it a name? I think so. It's hard to tell.

* * *

The blasted sun is peeking over the horizon and the stupid flesh bag is about to collapse. His fingers fumble with the parts, and if he's not careful he'll break the thing.

Fine. 

One arm sweeps the parts aside and the man promptly collapses. Sleep means losing power, but if it's broken it'll be for nothing anyway.

He relents.

We sleep.

* * *

It's silent at last.

But not for long.

* * *

How long has it been? I snap him awake and raise his fists and fear.

It's a girl, staring in shock and fear. I suppose he must look like death, sunken eyes and pale skin and messy hair.

He stands and she screams.

We can't have that.

She's weak and falls at his hand. The eye is nearly complete. No point in killing her now. They'll find his DNA and that'll be that. 

He puts on the mask and _at last_ I can see.

* * *

What's going on?

Why is it so dark?

Mark?

* * *

He's perfect, absolutely perfect. No wretched shape shifting powers to get in the way. 

He laughs for the first time in decades.

Finally.

* * *

...10elp...

...10011ark?

M101101k???

* * *

The sun is out when he slips away.

In the distance, our bomb goes off.


	21. Chapter 21

Matt fully expected his first wake up with his boyfriend (?) in weeks would have been a pleasant experience, had it not been for the pervasive smell of smoke and chemicals and the never-ending alarm slicing through his thoughts. 

He was out of bed in an instant, placing his hand on Nate's as he gripped his other fist. 

The arm wasn't in the dorms. The smell was drifting in from the open window. Matt sighed with relief, turning back to see Nate's wrinkling his nose.

"What the fuck is that?" he winced. Matt shrugged as he went to the window and shut it as Nate pulled himself out of bed, rubbing a fresh bruise on his neck.

They kissed lazily, just to feel each other.

Matt's phone suddenly rang, scaring both men and causing them to jump apart. He answered quickly.

"Matt!"

"Mark? What's going one?"

"There was an attack. No one knows who it was, and Jack's missing" Mark explained, his voice falling and riding erratically as he spoke. His words were almost completely strung together, as if they were bitter on his tongue and he wanted them _out._  


"How do you know?" Matt asked.

They both heard Mark pause as a wave of worry washed over both.

"He's been gone since last night. He left his phone and no one's seen him. God, I'm scared" 

Mark's voice wavered at the though of his best friend in trouble, or worse. Nate and Matt exchanged worrisome glances before Matt took a breath and answered calmly.

"We'll keep an eye out, Mark. It'll be okay"

"I hope so" the other man replied bitterly, before hanging up. Matt stuffed his phone into his pajama pocket and threw on a sweatshirt. Nate frowned.

"Where are you going?"

"To see what happened. That smell and Mark's call weren't a coincidence" Matt insisted, hands already at the doorknob. Nate bit his lip before following, his heart skipping as Matt grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall.

The campus was abuzz with activity. Students were swarming the grounds, firetruck and police car sirens wailed, and the whole area was pervaded by that awful odor; something like bleach and iron and hand sanitizer. Not enough to make one gag, but causing of a displeased glance.

Mark was standing near one of the police cars, speaking urgently with the officer. As Matt approached with Nate in tow, he said a quick final word and jogged across the grass to meet them.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked.

Mark shook his head. "No. Well, I'm not hurt or anything. There was an explosion in the lab"

Matt's jaw dropped and his grip around Nate's hand tightened.

"Shit" muttered Nate, scanning the campus, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the sun to get a better look. Sure enough, the windows to the lab were pouring oddly colored smoke out into the morning air. There were stretchers and medical personnel scattered across the parking lot and field. 

A nurse hurried by with some EMPs behind him, pushing a stretcher. Nate got a look and nearly screamed.

He'd never seen the girl in the cart before, but he doubted he'd have recognized her if he had. It was also impossible to tell if she was even still alive. Her eyes were open, lolling back into her head and glazed milky white, as if she'd gone blind. Her tongue and parted lips were a sickly blue color, and every vein in her body stood out in stark black through her papery skin. But it was the smell that scared him most: just like the chemicals in the building. Almost like...

_...like she'd been imbued with them._

Shuddering, he turned back to Matt and Mark, who had been too absorbed in their own conversation to notice the girl. Mark himself looked a bit green, but Nate figured it was only his worries stressing him out.

" - three dead" Mark was saying.

Matt swallowed hard. "Do they know who - ?"

Stuffing his hands into his hoodie, Mark shook his head. "For all they know it was just an accident. But nothing like this has ever happened before. That's why everyone's worried"

Nate watched the conversation with a twist in his stomach. Instinctively he moved closer to Matt and squeezed his hand. Instantly, deep brown eyes met his.

"You okay?" Matt asked, rubbing his thumb across Nate's knuckles. Nate nodded, feeling to sick to say anything.

No one was really okay.

* * *

"Matter, this is a question of duty"

Matt rolled his eyes. When W adopted that tone of voice, there was no changing his mind. 

"Sir, you know Nightmare's never been known for these sorts of things. He's a petty thief, not a chemical terrorist!"

"Matter..."W growled.

The call had come that evening, after all the available news of the event had been recounted. 

A chemical bomb of unknown origin and type had gone off in the labs, killing a girl who had most likely been on a studying binge in the lab itself and two sophomores who'd been sitting on the roof. The rest of the injuries were the result of the toxins filling the ventilation. Lower floors were unaffected. 

Sean McLaughlin was missing.

"Sir, he's not - "

"That's enough, Matter. You question him, or someone else, someone far less infatuated with him will"

W paused to let his statement sink in. Matt felt his face heat up as W continued.

"Is that understood?"

Matt tightened his jaw.

"Yes sir"

W sighed, and when he spoke again his voice was thin and tired. For the first time, Matt considered W's own life. 

"Look, Matter, I know this is hard on you, but we've got dispatches across the country and the UK looking for the culprit. It's not personal"

"Yes, sir"

"Thank you, Matter"

A weak chuckle.

"Over and out"

The line went dead and Matt removed his headphones just as Nate walked out of the bathroom, wearing sweatpants with a towel across his shoulders. He slammed his laptop shut. Nate raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I'm going to Wade's to study for a few. Is that okay?" Nate asked.

Matt forced himself to laugh. "I'm not your husband, Nate. You don't need my permission"

Nate grinned, throwing on a T-shirt and shoes before slinging his bag over his shoulder. He sat next to Matt for a second.

"I'll be back soon, babe. Can I call you that?"

Matt sighed. "No"

Nate shrugged. "Suit yourself" he said, turning Matt's head slightly and kissing him. "See you later" he said, before disappearing out the door.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter as a belated birthday present to myself :)

"Why do you always insist on meeting at night, exactly?"

Matt sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair and rolling his eyes at Nightmare. "We're not exactly an everyday pair, you know"

"Pair?"

"Yes, pair. Two. A duo"

"You're impossible"

They were just walking, for once. They always seemed to know where the other was, so they'd met on a rooftop and agreed to talk. 

It was all very domestic. 

"Can you just cut to the chase? I've got banks to rob... and stuff"

"Not on my watch" muttered Matt, before turning to face Nightmare. "There's been an accident" he said finally. 

"There's always been an accident, Matter" Nightmare snapped.

"At the campus! There's been an accident at the campus near here. There was a chemical bomb. Three people are _dead_ , Mare"

Nate froze. So that's what this was about. He swallowed hard and managed a response, feigning ignorance.

"What?"

"You heard me"

The accusatory tone in Anti's voice was enough to make Nightmare huff indignantly. He glared, stopping in his tracks and crossing his arms, fire blazing in his black eyes. "I guess this was W's idea?"

Matt's voice faltered. "He needed me to investigate. That's all" he stammered

Silence fell upon the pair. Nightmare's eyes seemed to glaze over as he pondered. His features suddenly darkened at the corners, sad and vacant. Matt was reminded very suddenly that Nightmare was human, too. He'd expected him to scoff and laugh off the accusations, but now he could almost hear the hurt in Nightmare's breathing. 

Matt was an idiot. He of all people should have known that the thief standing before him was every bit as human as he was. He had a life, a job or school, a girlfriend - 

Matt cut himself off and opened his mouth to apologize. But before he could speak, Nightmare's voice cut through the darkness and all hell broke loose.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Only one person had ever said that to Matt before. His mind was suddenly filled with memories he despised, of a sly, slim face and clever green eyes and shouting and crying and his heart breaking inside of his chest. Before he knew it, there were hot tears stinging his eyes and he was swallowing an unpleasant lump in his throat. His nails burned into his palms as he squeezed his fists tightly. 

"Leave you) alone?" he snapped, feeling pleased as Nate's eyes filled very suddenly with fear. Before he could react, Matt swung his fist at his face with a strength neither knew he had. His knuckles collided with Nightmare's jaw with an alarming crack, sending the thief reeling back several feet, nearly falling backwards onto the damp concrete.

Matt froze, his fist burning. Nightmare readjusted himself, stumbling to regain his footing and massaging his jaw. Fury blossomed across his face, and he lunged for AntiMatter, shoving him against the alley wall and crushing his throat with his forearm. Anti let out a strangled gasp, his vision becoming blotchy in the corners.

"Bastard" hissed Nightmare, pushing even harder against Matt's windpipe. He wanted to retort, but he could hardly breath through Nightmare's grip.  The world slipped through his fingers, so he desperately kicked with his left foot, landing squarely on Nightmare's stomach and forcing him away. As the thief yelped, Matt collapsed to his knees, coughing and wheezing. His vision continued to swim until he was roughly shoved aside. Nightmare's arm was clamped across his chest, and Matt could see blood pooling against his white lips. The anger in his coal black eyes was so terrifying that he scrambled backward, shivering as he did so.

"You son of a bitch" he muttered, his voice weak and straining against his throat. "Are you going to kill me?"

"So what if I did?"

Angrily, Matt scrambled to his feet, advancing on shaking legs. "It'd be the least you can do" he choked, pushing himself up to his full height and drawing dangerously close to Nightmare's face. "You've been nothing but trouble for as long as I can remember. You've driven me nearly mad with your thieving and your nuisance behaviors. You've _kissed_ me, for God's sake!"

"You didn't seen all too bothered by that when it happened, Matter" Nightmare drawled, licking some blood from his lips and seizing Matt by the collar, ready to kiss him again.

Matt shoved him back, disgusted.

"Enough" he spat. "I've had enough. This is sick, and I'm tired of it. I don't want you greedy hands on me again - "

Every word had been searing against Nate's chest like a bullet, and he couldn't stand it anymore. Abandoning any inhibitions, he made one last lunge, smashing AntiMatter against the wall with a nasty thud and crushing his lips against his, desperate for one last taste before...

He didn't want to think about what might happen next.

Matt groaned furiously as Nightmare pinned his arms above his head, forcing his lips apart and drinking him in. He sunk his teeth into Nightmare's sore lip angrily, ignoring the bitter copper taste that suddenly filled his mouth. He felt the thief's chest hum with a musical sort of laughter that sent his head spinning. One of the hands holding his own above his head slipping down, fumbling with his trouser clasp. Cold leather pressed against his hot skin and he gasped, rolling into the sensation.

_Stop it_.

With a whine, he pushed Nightmare away, pain starting to pool in various parts of his body. "Hate to disappoint you, dearest, but unlike you, I've got a purpose here, other than petty theft and general nuisance" he snapped, recovering his trousers hastily, hands shaking violently. 

Nate wasn't going to give up so easily. He reached out and seized Anti's jaw, pulling his lips to his again.

"Don't you dare" he growled.

Antimatter whimpered. He was a greedy, worthless fool. His hands scrabbled for Nightmare's shirt, pitiful noises still escaping his throat.

Neither heard the approaching footsteps until a cold, nasty voice that sounded almost familiar cut through their trance and made them yank away.

_"Well, well, well. What have we here?"_

* * *

 

Professor W. was not a particularly patient person. 

"I don't give a fuck if they're not here yet. This is an emergency"

"W..." came an exasperated voice. "Just give us the reports. We can discuss this with them later"

With a frustrated huff, W swiped his finger across his screen and sent the files to the group of people who were currently listening over an intercom. A few moments later, worried mutters began to fill the air. 

"Sir - " began a London accented tone. "These are... dangerous accusations" 

"I concur" came another voice of similar accent, save a Northern edge. 

"Thanks for your observation, lovebirds. We got that part" came a woman's voice. Her dark face blinked onto the screen, framed by thick black hair. 

"Lily, don't be like that" 

"I'll be however I want, thank you very much" snapped Lily, deep brown eyes never leaving the report on her screen.

"It doesn't matter who is what" the bearded man cut in, scanning the reports. "Something's gotten loose, and you can be sure it's going to spread"

"Can't we contain it?" came the Northern lilt.

"I've no idea" W said coldly. "But we need answers fast. Launch the INTs"

"Sir, is that really - "

"Yes, Mr. Neal, it is" W interrupted the dark haired man, who shifted in his seat, taken aback. The professor continued with a hefty sigh.    

"Send out the teams"

* * *

_**Los Angeles Police Department** _

_**FORM C-625 (Coroner's Div.)** _

Victims's Name (last, first, middle): Caulfield, Joan, Lillian

Sex: F

Age: 19

Race: Caucasian

Height: 5 6"

Weight: 127lbs

Description of corpse: Victim's eyes were open and both the iris and pupil had faded to a milky white color, similar to victims of blindness (although the patient was in possession of 20/20 vision. Her tongue and oral region were reported to be a "grayish blue" color. Major veinal systems within the victim's body were observed to appear black from her skin. Upon further examination, the black color was the result of both lack of oxygen and an unknown chemical introduction to the bloodstream. The victim was also observed to have a stench similar to the of the reported explosion, with no clear source.

External injuries: The victim was in possession of a large contusion in the apex of the cranium. The victim was also found to have scars on the lower torso region, the result of appendicitis in earlier years. No other external abrasions or irritations were discovered.

Internal injuries: The victim's major internal organs (heart, liver, etc.) were found to have "rotted away" to a point that seemed improbable considering the time of death. Cutting found the organs "dried and lifeless", and weighing up to twice as much as normal despite lack of fluid. The victim's cardiovascular system was found to be black in color as a result of lack of oxygen and an unknown chemical. Cutting revealed no further information. The victim's nervous system was in extremely poor condition, including severe damage to the frontal lobe and basal ganglia, also known as the "free will center". The cause is currently unknown. No other internal injuries or irritations of significance were found. 

Medical diagnosis: The victim was found to have died due to asphyxiation and poisoning. Murder is highly suspected, although of an unusual degree.

Notes: The patient was a 19 year old Caucasian female with no significant past medical history who was found dead in the student laboratory of [NAME] University. She was discovered after reports of an explosion started to come in and officers were sent to investigate The patient was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital at 0623 with faded, fixed, pupils, no heart sounds, no pulse and no spontaneous respirations.

(Sources for this FICTIONAL autopsy: 

<https://www.extremetech.com/extreme/231993-neuroscientists-just-isolated-the-part-of-the-brain-that-controls-free-will>

<https://www.utmb.edu/meded/year4/autopsy_4th_year/autopsyreportsample.pdf>

<https://quizlet.com/6613516/ap-ch-1-medical-names-of-body-parts-flash-cards/m>)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @StarWolf802 and @Willow_Angel for being so supportive of this, er, endeavor of mine. Thanks guys!


	23. Chapter 23

Both enhanced stared with terrified awe at the creature that had just discovered them. 

It had the shape of a man, but if its voice and expression were to be trusted, it was far from human. It held itself lightly, as if it didn't require a single muscle to walk and instead was suspended by puppeteer strings. Its hands were clasped leisurely behind its back, and it wore dark, dirty clothes and a stained lab coat.

 

But the face was the most terrifying. It was hard to concentrate on, almost flickering in and out of focus the longer Nightmare and AntiMatter tried to look at it. From what they could see, the face was hollow and sunken, pale as milk. Too long, matted green hair fell over the creature's left eye, drawing further attention to the right, red and puffy, edged with dark purples and blues, as if the man hadn't slept in weeks.

It's face seemed to crack into a smile as it spoke.

"What a scandal! I can't believe I've gotten the pleasure of watching you two shagging against the wall like deranged animals with my own eyes" he chuckled nastily. 

Instinctively, Nate stepped in front of AntiMatter. "Who are you?" he snapped.

"Who is anyone, really?" purred the thing, reaching up to brush its hair back. As it did so, AntiMatter let out a small shriek. Instantly, Nate clasped his arm protectively, feeling a horrible sick feeling in his stomach as the creature continued to flash that ear splitting grin.

His left eye, which had previously been hidden, was covered by a horrifying device. It reminded Matt of the Hal from A Space Odyssey, save that the sickly light blinking at him was bright green. A large metal cylinder seemed to house the prosthetic, if that's truly what it was, and there was no sign of a strap or attachment. It seemed to have simply adhered itself to Jack's face. The look within the chemical green eye was enough to send shivers down one's back.

"What the hell?" Nate demanded. He felt Anti's grip tighten on his wrist. Reluctantly, he looked behind him. Matter's face had gone white as a sheet, his shoulders shook, and he had started to back away. His eyes never left the creature's horrifying mechanical one.

The thing laughed again. Its laugh was slimy and cruel, and Nate's ears and face burned painfully, as if he'd opened a vat of chemicals, just hearing it.

"Your boyfriend's right to be afraid. He knows me" continued the thing, taking another step forward. Before either could protest, the clouds broke and slanting moonlight shone fully on the creature's face. Both metas gasped.

"Jack?" Matt choked.

"But of course, my dear AntiMatter. Who else might this body belong to?" trilled Jack, whose voice and gestures were suddenly very familiar as the two realized him for who he really was.

Suddenly, Jack lurched as if to pounce right on the suspecting heroes. They both flinched, only to be rewarded with another hideously noxious laugh. The creature-Jack suddenly twisted his hand in the air, revealing several wisps of green light writhing between his fingers, dimly accentuating a maniacal grin that was spreading across his face. Before either super could react, Jack made a motion as if he was throwing a ball at the wall behind him. A streak of neon shot over their heads with a hissing noise before crashing into the brick wall behind them. Instantly, the brick started to fizzle away, bubbling like water in a pot as the chemicals slowly broke down the worn surface.

Three sets of eyes met. The fading light shone across the maniacal grin that was beginning to spread across Jack's face.

_"Run"_ he whispered, and the air was filled with hissing as his hand ignited once more.

Matt did the first thing he could think of. Without pausing to analyze, as he would so often have done, he scooped Nightmare into his arms bridal-style and shot into the sky. Nightmare yelled several profanities, looking down as the city shrank beneath him. He quickly threw his arms around Matt's neck and buried his face in his chest, whimpering ever so slightly.

Matt looked down, and could just barely see the faint glow of Jack's eye. He was about to tell Nightmare it was alright, but before he could even open his mouth the speck of green started to grow brighter. Almost instantly, Jack was floating next to them, hands on his hips and a smug grin etched across his face. Instinctively, Matt pulled Nightmare closer to his chest. The poor man was shaking violently, either from the height or the strange thing before them, Matt didn't know for certain.

"Jack, please. Leave"

"It's Septic, you imbecile. _The_ Septic, if you prefer, although I don't give a fuck about your preferences" Jack snapped, as that hissing sound started to fill the air again.

Matt quickly jerked out his hand, nearly dropping Nightmare in the process. Septic, taken by surprise was thrust back to earth as the force of Matt's pulse came crashing against his chest. He tumbled back with a loud swear. Quick as he dared, Matt flew down to the nearest rooftop and deposited Nightmare, who was looking a bit green.

"Go home, or wherever you come from. I can take care of him" AntiMatter insisted.

"Please don't pull that bullshit, Matter. I can help" Nate sighed, struggling to stand on shaky legs.

"I don't care, I'm not going to be responsible for your death!"

A laugh echoed across the sky as Septic fully regained his balance and returned to the sky. Grabbing AntiMatter's arm, Nate dragged them both behind one of the containers on the rooftop.

"You can't hide forever!"

"GO. NOW." Matt hissed between gritted teeth.

"But - "

"GO!"

Nate stared hard into AntiMatter's light brown eyes. They reminded him of something, or someone, he couldn't quite place. Regardless, they were filled with pain and desperation. Were those feelings because of him? Because of Septic? Because he cared about this damn city so fucking much?

"Fine" Nate said, starting for the emergency ladder. As his hand clasped the edge, he offered one last glance.

"Please be careful"

And he was gone. Matt stood up, ducking out onto an open space on the rooftop and scanning the sky. He couldn't feel Septic anywhere, and anything he could feel would glitch away the second he'd focused on it. A hiss sounded behind him, and it was all he could do to duck before a bolt of green whizzed over his head and landed a few feet in front of him, instantly beginning to degrade the rooftop.

Forcing himself to his feet, Matt whipped around, still seeing no sign of Septic. His heart was pounding in his throat, his fists were clenched, and he was absolutely terrified.

"You really _are_ naïve, Matthew"

Matt started at the use of his own name before turning white at the voice that had just been just beside his ear.

_The bastard was invisible._

Before he could fully process this new information, Septic materialized out of nowhere beside him.

"Boo" he grinned, before throwing a punch right at Matt's temple.

The world went black as Septic's laugh rang in his ears.

* * *

Nate was running as he'd never run before. His feet were starting to hurt as they pounded against the pavement, his chest was burning with smoggy city air, and his whole throat was on fire. The warm air had him drenched with sweat, and his makeup was starting to melt off his face. If anyone saw him, he had no doubt they would call the police on the odd maniac running through the LA streets.

And yet he ran.

He couldn't quite explain why. 

Turning a corner, his tired feet gave out on him and he fell to the pavement, wincing as the weight of his body slammed into his shoulder. He lay there for a few moments, panting hard.

The night sky yawned above him, a few stars peeking through the obnoxious lights. The pavement was still warm against his back, and the air smelled of gasoline and rubber. 

Someone was sure to come find him.

With a heavy sigh he rose to his feet, wincing again as his legs ached in protest. Leaning against the wall, he paused again to take a few more gulps of air.

His vision grew fuzzy for a moment, and all could think of was AntiMatter. Beaten to death by that _thing_ , or transformed like that girl at the labs. Nate had no doubts Septic was fully responsible for those "accidents".

He told himself he hated to admit it, but Nightmare cared for the hero. He knew whatever they had couldn't and wouldn't last forever, but at the very least he wanted to see him safe. After all, the city he protected _was_ his home, and if he were gone, it would be in grave danger. The police would be swamped, and some of the nastier criminals would go berserk. The - 

Nate's head shot up. The _police_.

He hated them, that much was true, and he hated the League even more, but they _had_ to know. He'd go in handcuffed, if need be, and by god he'd give them everything they needed to save Jack and AntiMatter alike.

He took a breath and started to run again. It would be okay, he told himself. Everything was fine. It would be -

He stopped dead in his tracks. 

Not because he wanted to. His feet had suddenly ceased to obey his commands. 

Familiar laughter sounded inches from his ear, and Septic materialized in front of him, hovering a few feet above the ground and grinning.

"Hello, Nathan"

Nate could not move. It was as if his feet were rooted to the ground, held in place by some impossible strong magnetic force. He twisted and turned his legs, but it was futile. The Septic alighted in front of him, still wearing that infuriating grin. Nate found it hard to believe this had once been his classmate and his friend, whose normally grey blue eyes were now fixing him with cruel amusement.

 

"I'd let you go, but we've so many things to discuss first" leered Septic, pushing his hair back once again the reveal his eyes. Nate shuddered and looked away. There was something beyond the usual creepiness in that eye. As if it didn't merely see you or scan you, it saw _through_ you. Every memory and experience snapped up in an instant and stored away.

"How do you know my real name?" Nate asked. "And where's Anti?"

Septic tutted impatiently. "So many question! All in good time, Nate. As for your current, ahem, predicament... let's just say you move when I want you to or not at all" 

Nate swallowed. It was as if the part of his brain that could control his legs had been shut off. His blood suddenly ran cold as he recalled one super, years before, who possessed a similar ability. 

No. No, that wasn't possible.

"Anything's possible, Nate" said Septic, waltzing by him as casually as you please. Nate growled angrily, desperately trying to yank his legs free to no avail.

"Look, I - "

"Shut it, ye bastard" Septic snapped, turning on his heel and advancing towards Nate, his eye crackling with energy. Their noses were nearly touching before Septic spoke again, low and angry. Nate's heart pounding, as he continued his struggle. He refused to throw a punch, for fear of hurting Jack, if he was still alive, and he had a sick feeling his powers weren't going to do him much good.

"I'll be asking the questions from now on" Septic hissed, raising his right hand to hover just beside Nate's left temple. His skin burned for a moment before his eyes shot open and his jaw dropped in a silent scream. Pain seared through his skull. Hot tears pricked his eyes.

"What the fuck - " he gasped, before the pain redoubled. Wincing, his head began to shift and shiver as the Septic sorted through his head like a disease, worming his way through and latching onto everything like a parasite. 

Nate yelped when he realized this and forced the thing out, clutching his head in his hands as blood dripped from his ringing. ears. He couldn't do that again, he couldn't.

Septic had drawn back a pace or two, looking impressed. "Well done, Nathan. Didn't know you had it in you, to be honest. Can't even confess your feeling to Matt, that's for damn sure" he mocked. Nate glared at him, still unable to speak through his pulsing headache.

Then the feeling returned and he was helpless. The energy was being drained out of him, the world was dimming. Sweat poured down his face and he tasted blood. Tears began to fall.

"Stop" he winced, tasting copper and salt. "Please"

Septic clenched his fist and Nate screamed as the pain continued to grow. He collapsed to his knees, too weak to even think about running away. Another bout of pain and he was writhing in agony on the concrete.

"Matt" he whispered, desperately trying to hold on to something, _someone_. He could feel his consciousness slipping away. His limbs were no longer his, he was seeing through another's eyes. His vision was edged green, blurred with his tears.

Septic knelt beside him, without so much as a hint of remorse on his sickly pale face. Seizing Nate's jaw roughly he forced him to look him in the eyes as the thief whimpered pathetically. 

"Do you _actually_ think Matthew gives a shit about you? Or your stupid hero boyfriend? They don't" Septic stated bluntly, his lips curling into a smile. "I should say _he_ doesn't. They're one in the same, you see" 

Through all his pain, Septic's last words hit Nate in the chest like a bucket of cold water. Frantic memories surged through his head, and he screamed again.

No. It couldn't be. It really couldn't.

Those eyes. God, those adorable brown eyes, always so damn bright and curious and warm. It had _always_ been Matthew, the man he'd somehow manage to fall in love with twice. God, he was a fool.

His head still hurt, but it was something of a dull aching now. His whole body felt numb and weightless, like he was floating through lukewarm water. He could feel his chapped lips split and crack as his mouth opened and he started to laugh, shaking violently. 

"Don't hurt him. By God, don't hurt him" he managed to mutter.

The last thing he heard was that sickly, poisonous laugh. 

And suddenly it was dark.

* * *

Matthew? Hello? Where the hell am I? 

Who's Matthew?

_You absolute idiot. Just shut up. He's not coming for you and you know it._

The voice was cruel and nasty, and Nate knew it well. Yes, Nate. That was his name. He couldn't fathom how he'd forgotten it. He looked down and saw only blackness. No hands, no feet, no ground. He realized everything was black. It was as if only he existed in this place. Just Nathan Sharp's thoughts, forever and always.

That settled it. He'd died and gone to hell.

_This isn't_ hell _, ye bastard. Stop talking. No one is coming for you, I assure you._

If he could have winced, Nate would have. He felt no pain, but the words were... empty, somehow. Like just hearing him took a little more out of him. 

_He's not coming._

No, Nate agreed. Why would he?

_He never loved you._

He never loved me.

_You meant nothing._

I -

I meant nothing.

The words felt so wrong and yet he believed them. Desperately, he searched his mind for proof that Matt had) loved him. But every memory he managed to salvage began to slip away. The words were muddled and the faces were blurred.

It was no use.

Please don't hurt him, he begged the creature.

Laughter.

_No promises, Nathan._

God, he was tired. He was so damn tired. Surely it wouldn't hurt to slip away for a few moments. He'd be back. He'd figure this out. But he needed sleep.

So damn tired.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaack  
> I've been battling sickness and starring in a play so I've had next to no time on my hands, but fear not! I'm here and this story is reaching the finale. Get ready!  
> ;)

For the first time in years, Matt slept in late.

He awoke with a start at nearly 11, yelping in shock and nearly tumbling out of his bunk. Luckily, he managed to grab one of the ladder rungs and ease himself down a little better. Taking a deep breath and rubbing his head to clear it, Matt turned around and reached for the large pile that was Nate, buried under the covers.

"Nate! We've got to - "

Nate sat up instantly and got out of bed, brushing past Matt without so much as a glance. His movements were oddly fluid, as if he was suddenly very practiced. Swallowing hard, Matt approached, wondering if Nate was sleepwalking or something of the like.

"Nate? Are you okay?"

"Yeah" Nate answered, his voice dry and pale. He offered no more information, only flicked on the kitchenette light and grabbed a cereal box. Now that the light was on and Matt could see his roommate's face more clearly, his concern only grew. Nate's black eyes were rimmed with red, and there were dark blotches underneath them. His skin was even paler than usual, and his cheeks seemed more sunken. 

"You sure?" Matt cautioned. 

Nate shot him a glare as he retrieved the milk. "Yes" he snapped, pouring his cereal. 

Well, that was odd. Not the only odd thing, to be sure, but Nate poured his milk first, always. Something about the perfect ratio of milk to cereal, or some notion like that. 

"Nate" 

Matt's voice was harsher now, laced with worry. 

"What?" Nate asked, in that same dull tone.

With an exasperated sigh, Matt collapsed into the stool next to Nate and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Look, you can tell me what's wrong. I'm worried"

"Nothing's wrong!" Nate snapped again, slamming his spoon down with a huff of frustration. "Just stop" he added, before Matt could speak again. 

The brunette watched with frustration as Nate pulled on a pair of jeans and slung his bag across his shoulder. As he headed for the door, Matt advanced, hands planted on his hips.

"What's going on? Where are you going?" he demanded.

"None of your business" Nate snapped, darting out the door and slamming it behind him. Matt's hand was on the doorknob to follow him, and haul him back to the dorm by his ear if need be, but his stomach suddenly twisted uncomfortably as soon as his hand made contact with the cold metal.

Let him go, Matthew. He's got every right to be sick of you.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, willing the voice away. The doorknob suddenly felt like ice beneath his fingertips, and he yanked his hand away quickly. The dorm was eerily silent, save his own breathing.

Taking a deep breath, Matt tried to rationalize. Nate probably forgot an assignment he was supposed to complete with J.T. or Hunter and didn't want to admit it. He could get like that sometimes, stubborn and standoffish, especially when he was embarrassed or frustrated.

Then again, Nate always asked Matt for homework help first.

His body seeming to click into autopilot, Matt sat down at Nate's spot and decided he might as well finish the cereal. As he ate, more and more thoughts of varying levels of irrationality formed in his head. Each thought was more absurd than the last.

There was a loud clang as Matt dropped his dishes in the sink with a heavy sigh. It was probably his fault, as it always seemed to be.

* * *

Nate woke with a bitter, coppery taste in his mouth and a pounding headache.

He couldn't remember much.

The dimmest of light filtered through the thin dorm curtains, and the glaring red numbers of his alarm clock read 2:30 AM. Groaning, he dug his palms into his eye sockets and tried to recall the previous twelve hours. It wasn't easy, seeing as every time he felt sure of something, it would waver in his memory like mirage, until he wasn't certain if it had actually happened or been little more than a hallucination.

Everything had been normal, if he remembered correctly. He'd met with Anti, at the hero's behest, and they'd exchanged their usual banter. Nothing odd about that. It had been rather chilly for an LA night, but that had hardly bothered either of them. Anti had been asking him about... something. Attacks? Bombings? Something about the school, he thought.

Nate's chest suddenly clenched as a sickly green flashed before his eyes, streaking cross his mind and vision.

_Do you remember now, Nathan?_

The ebony swallowed hard, sinking back under his duvet, closing his eyes and willing the voice away. It was only a dream, just a terrible, horrible dream.

_Quite the Nightmare, eh?_

With a growl, Nate clamped his pillow over his head. Part of him wondered why he could still control his own actions, considering last night he was pretty certain he'd been completely under Septic's control. In response, the voice returned, clear as crystal in his mind.

_To put in your human terms, you're out of range. Don't worry, I'll have you back soon enough._

Out of range. In this moment, he was Nathan Sharp, Nightmare, himself. For once in his life, he was happy to be that way. rolling over, he stared up at the bottom of Matt's bunk, allowing the strains of a pop song float through his mind. He could hear Matt's breathing, calm and gentle. He smiled softly, absently tracing the wood grain pattern of the wooden slab above him. His finger suddenly slid into a cache, and a secret trapdoor of sorts popped open, spilling a single item into his lap.

Nate meant to stuff it back before he'd even gotten a good look. Whatever Matt had in his weird secret drawer was his business. But as his fingers closed around the small object, his dark eyes chanced down and he knew it instantly.

It was a thin red mask, made of a velvety fabric and oddly heavy in his hands.

And Nate remembered.

_I told you._

Quick as he could, Nate shoved the mask back into its hiding place as if it had suddenly started to burn his fingers. Staring at his hands, his vision suddenly blurred as tears pricked at his eyes. He'd been a liar this whole time, and he had no doubts if he'd just taken time to think about it, to examine the facts, he'd have known the truth a long time ago.

Then again, hadn't he?

Every time Matt had laughed, he'd known. Every cheeky wink and witty remark, all of it.

He'd known.

Like a mad man, Nate was suddenly overwhelmed with a fit of giggled which only brought more tears to his eyes. he laughed mockingly at himself and his stupidity, at Matt, who'd actually thought he was decent, at the sheer ridiculous nature of the situation. He, who had bent people to his will for years, was now at the hands of this thing who had possessed his best friend. Snatching his pillow, he buried his face into it and laughed until his sides hurt, his nose was running, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He realized that, at some point, Septic had joined in. His clunky, oddly mechanical laughter was echoing in Nate's head.

_Go to sleep, Nathan. Can't have you losing it just yet._

In an instant, Nate obeyed.

When he woke up, he didn't realize it.

* * *

"We've got to stop meeting like this"

Mark chuckled weakly, running a hand through his hair. He'd dyed it back to black recently, and planned to keep it that way. "I guess you're right. What are you running from now, Matthew?" he asked, in a tone that exceeded his years and sounded vaguely familiar.

"Same as always" Matt muttered, stirring his coffee.

The bookshop was crowded on a Saturday, with people chatting among the aisles and shifting through various copies and magazines. The café was also bustling, but no one took too much notice of the two sleep-deprived college students sitting at one of the window tables. That was for the best, since neither wanted their conversation to be overheard.

Mark let out another melancholy sigh. "I'd love to talk more, but I've got an appointment in five minutes" he said.

"With whom?"

"Can't say"

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Matt asked gently.

Mark stood up. "I hope so" he confessed, draining the last of his coffee. Matt wondered if he'd consumed anything other than coffee the past few days.

As Mark slung his jacket over his shoulder, Matt cleared his throat.

"They'll find him, Mark. He'll be fine"

There was sadness in those dark eyes.

"I hope so"

And he was gone. Matt took a breath and leaned back in his seat. The sky was starting to go from pale grey to dark, a sure sign rain was coming. Matt sighed, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes. For once, there was only peaceful quiet.

His phone started to ring loudly, and he quickly answered.

"Matter? Are you there?"

"Yes, sir"

 

For once, the voice over the earpiece didn't sound annoyed. There was no trace of the professor's usual apathy or disgruntlement. He sound strained and tired. Matt could almost hear his pounding headache and tired eyes. He remembered, not for the first time, that W was human, too. 

"Matthew, listen. This is important"

"I know that, sir" Matt replied, chewing his lip. W hardly ever spoke to him beyond instructions and assignments. 

"Matthew, please. Drop the sir"

Matt sighed, shifting his phone in his hand. It was all incredibly strange. The professor's voice was suddenly different. It was older and kinder and gentler. Swallowing hard, Matt took a breath and responded.

"Sorry. What's my assignment?"

"I've sent out an alert. There's a European team being assembled, and you've got reinforcements from down south" W replied. "As soon as Septic shows himself again, I'll sound the alarm" W added. At the same time, a large file appeared on Matt's desktop. Opening it, he found the profiles of his assigned team. Men and women from all walks of life stared back at him, with steely determination on their faces. He even recognized a few, whom he'd met during previous missions.

" - just for now" 

Matt blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Stay put. Low and silent. Don't speak with any other supers, and don't fraternize with Nightmare"

"But - !"

"No buts! Mr. Sean is in grave danger, as is the rest of this city, and possibly the world"

"It's always the world, isn't it?"

"It would seem so" the professor admitted.

"Fine. I've got it" Matt said, reaching for the button to terminate the call. Before he could press it, however, W's voice cut in, even softer than before.

"Bring him back, Matthew. Please"

W never said please. Not when the League was hijacked, not when a villain's earthquakes threatened to split the world in two, not when his closest advisors were in mortal peril. He was always obeyed without question.

Matt knew how he felt.

"Please"

"Will do, sir" Matt said, hitting the red button. His gaze strayed out the window, where clouds had started to form in the distance. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his tea. The darkening sky looked ready to open up and spill at any second.

He had to be ready.

* * *

Matt ducked into the dorms just as the rain began to pour. He hurried up the steps and into his room, hoping to see Nate.

To his horror, there was no sign of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such bad! Very conflict! Much future cameos!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I'm not dead!

She wasn't particularly threatening. Not at all, really.

 

Lucy Greenfield was born healthy, if chubby, with fair eyes and fair skin and a smile that was most unlike the vast majority of newborns. From a very young age, there was something about her. Not a danger, of course. Merely a look, a childlike gleam in her eyes that never really faded.

She grew, in time. She was always ambitious, reaching for the next ladder rung without so much as a glance behind her. Sometimes, that determination came back to bite her. She was a common con-artist, nothing more. And yet The Professor took her under his wing.

"I like you, kid" he said. 

After sometime, she would respond.

"Not so bad yourself, sir"

Professor W. trusted the Reflector with his life and the life of the city. She saw things not meant for the human eye, touched items wholly unfit to be touched.

That's how she found it.

She was assigned to take it, examine it, and return it to the League. When she'd picked it up, that was the plan. Three days later, she reported it destroyed in a freak accident and delivered some meaningless data, all while holding the device in her hand.

It was unassuming, really. Not unlike a flash drive. But there was something about it, something alluring. She could not help observing it further.

That night she had a dream about blueprints. Blueprints that could tell her everything.

* * *

 

They were, admittedly, annoying.

Both his host and his assistant were stubborn as mules, and he daren't let down his guard for a second for fear they'd break free. It gave the host headaches, meaning he could feel them throughout his entire being.

And, of course, there was the fact that they would never shut up.

Mark this and Matt that.

He kept them asleep, mostly. 

The host was easier to control. He was just a human, easy to channel and easy to manipulate. The other one had that extra layer, superpowers, which always made them harder to control. But he was getting stronger, and with a little luck the host wouldn't die before his was through with him.

Everything was coming together.

He couldn't explain why he was doing it. Revenge felt good.

* * *

 

When Lucy Greenfield began reconstruction on the artifact, she opened Pandora's box.

But before Pandora, someone had to fill the box. 

The project was called Profectus, and that was what it was supposed to bring. At first, the higher ups may only have wanted to better understand the super subspecies in relation to their own.

It didn't last. An uneasy peace is seldom retained.

With the most advanced humans on the planet within their grasp, some people couldn't resist. There were too many questions to be answered; how did they get their powers? What were their limits? Could they possible be taken away?

And most importantly, could they be used as weaponry? A branch broke off, forming an underground, highly corrupt operation.

Even Professor W. didn't notice the disappearances at first. They were quick. Suddenly, silently, someone would vanish, and the whole thing would blow over. 

Even when he did notice, there was nothing he could do.

Unbeknownst to all but an elite few, the lab was located underground in a highly quarantined area. The walls were lined with lead and every surface was crisp and slick.

All except the cells.

On the lowest level, the superheroes were kept in detention blocks that had once been somewhat serviceable bedrooms for subjects who were staying the night for comparison data or similar reasons. 

It reeked of blood and sweat.

Most everything was grimy. The beds were ripped and the floor was coated in several layers of dust, smeared only by the lab boots of those who came down during extractions.

There was always someone crying.

* * *

He couldn't remember his name.

He must've had one. He had some vague recollection that all humans had names, and since he'd been one at some point it seemed a logical conclusion that he, too, would have had a name. 

Useless, really, since he couldn't remember it.

It had been dark. Yes, always dark. Except when it wasn't. When it wasn't dark, it was blinding, sterile white. The shining beams he recalled would slice into his eyes and skull, and no matter his many times he blinked he would still see red and orange behind his eyelids for hours afterwards.

They wanted something from him. Something important. 

He hadn't wanted them to have it.

Why not?

* * *

Desk File

Katherine Mason, Dr.

5/24/XX

Subject [A62] Report

\- showing signs of deterioration

\- extraction process has proven futile.

\- three nurses dead

Additional notes: Subject is unwilling to give up their abilities, and we may be unable to extract them. Of all the cases, these are wired the deepest. It is likely we will have to terminate the subject.

* * *

_They failed. I escaped._

_I think._

* * *

Desk File

Katherine Mason, Dr.

5/24/XX

Subject [A62] Report

\- subject is showing signs of insanity

\- due for termination on XXX

\- Failed experiment; little to no information was acquired

Additional Notes: Subject spends little time doing much of anything except pacing and muttering in a deranged manner. Death is his escape.

* * *

She _was my escape._

_It was odd, to be so close to humanity and yet so far. They'd stripped me of such a luxury long ago._

_Then again, to die is not luxury._

* * *

For a while, the blueprint for the "mind capsule" device was hidden in the archives, in the form a small object that not even the League's top scientists dared to tamper with. Eventually, W decided it should be destroyed. He couldn't risk it in anyone's hands, so he gave it to his closest and most trusted friend. 

* * *

_I knew immediately when she found the device._

_Everything was going perfectly._

_The strong willed are, in a way, the easiest to seduce._

_They've always got their minds wrapped around one singular idea, like a rock in an ocean. You put enough chips in their rock, and it crumbles away to nothing. They're left to the unknown sea, until someone finds them and sets them a new rock and convinces them this one will never break._

_It will, of course. It's a vicious cycle._

Matt?

Where is he?

God, Matt?

_For that imbecile, the rock was Matt. Oh, he was devoted. Every thought as dripping with sickly sweetness. He adored the man. Disgusting, really._

_I'd seen his every thought. When they'd talk and hold hands and kiss and fuck._

_He held on to those thoughts. I couldn't take him, not yet. Not with_ Matt _in the way._

_He'll just have to die, now, won't he?_

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, more frequent updates. I finally got past that writer's block.

Matt's dreams varied, and he couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.  
  
The first few were dark. Matt imagined tortured screams, and bloody battles that ended only in loss. The darkness would look over him, threatening to swallow him. He'd run, and seem to escape before it returned, doubled in strength. He woke up clutching the sheets with sweat pouring down his face.  
  
He found one of Nate's T-shirts discarded at his desk. Like a desperate teen in some eighties flick, he kept it. Somehow, it made him feel better. As if Nate was alright, and he could have him back and never fear losing him again. He wore the shirt and pretended he was holding Nate again.  
  
God, Matt was an idiot. He could feel his mind continuing to unravel as each day passed. Mark barely spoke anymore, trudging from task to task. Even W's voice had lost its cheerful, cynical edge.  
  
"The whole damn city's feeling it, Matter" the professor snapped one evening, as if Matt hadn't noticed the droning voices and mumbled speech. His professors taught nothing new, his friends seemed utterly exhausted, and he was beyond worried and lonely.  
  
He and Mark took to meeting at the coffee shop for emotional support. They ordered something different every time, just to get some sense of variety in their world which had turned into an endless mass of grey.  
  
AntiMatter was busier than ever. Septic's minions, as well as other crooks who decided to take advantage of the city's distraction, ravaged the city nearly every night. Robberies, destruction, and a handful of murders.  
  
Above all, Matt was angry. Angry that Nate was gone and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Angry that the League was too slow in their methods and he was fending for himself. His methods were harsher. He was less reluctant to maim, or kill, if necessary.  
  
It was one AM on campus. Matt's backpack was stuffed with his uniform, and he could barely lift his feet. He tripped over the grass near the memorial and considered sending it toppling down then and there. As he struggled to his feet, he caught sight of the sky. There hadn't been stars in what seemed like forever.  
  
His dorm had always been a comfort. It was plain, but that was the way he liked it. A handful of posters on the walls, the ridiculously childish train rug on the floor, and Nate's guitar, sitting in the corner, waiting for its owner to one home.  
  
It wasn't comforting anymore. It was yawning and empty. Nate was gone.  
  
"Because _you_ couldn't protect him" the voice in his head muttered nastily.  
  
Matt growled in frustration, dropping his back and slamming the door. As he reached his bed, he seized the shirt he'd been saving and threw it to the ground, kicking it under Nate's bed.  
  
It wouldn't bring him back anyway.

* * *

_What did we do to deserve this?  
_  
_We can't remember anything.  
_  
_Who are we?_ What _are we?  
_  
_We don't know.  
_  
_It's getting harder to stay awake._

* * *

When Matt awoke, the ceiling was shaking.  
  
He sat bolt upright, watching in horror as bits of plaster fell from the ceiling. He looked around, straining his ears. They were met with panicked screaming, sirens wailing, and the campus alarms blaring.  
  
Tumbling out of bed, Matt ran to the window threw it open. The lawn was green, and the sky was blue. Not a student to be seen. But in the distance, black smoke spiraled towards the clouds. As the building shook again, red and orange streaked across the sky. A few moments later, a horrifying boom reached Matt's ears.  
  
"Matter? Matter!" came W's voice. Matt winced, realizing he'd slept with his comlink in. He pressed his finger to the button. "Professor, what's going on?"  
  
"What do you think, you little shit? Septic and his minions are on a rampage!" W snapped, trying to sound as angry as possible. Matt detected the fear in his voice.  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
"Because he's crazy! Look, I need you to make sure the students on campus are safe. Get them to the bunkers and hide until the team arrives"  
  
"What team?"  
  
"The League finally got one dispatched. They were cleaning up after another psycho" W explained.  
  
"Why can't I go?" Matt asked, fully aware he sounded like a petulant child.  
  
"It's too dangerous" W said firmly. "And I can't risk losing another man"  
  
"But - "  
  
"No!" W snapped, his voice wavering. "Stay where you are. Help is on the way"  
  
Matt opened his mouth again to protest, but the com went dead. Angrily, he tossed it out, before running back to the window. He hadn't noticed whilst talking to W, but the bunker alarm had gone off. Students were now streaming across campus, flying for safety. Matt sighed, resolving to obey W. In a few moments he was suited up and out the window.  
  
"Get to the bunkers!" he yelled. "Remain calm!"  
  
Easier said than done. As he scanned the masses, he noticed a shorter figure with black hair waving him over. He recognized him immediately.  
  
"Anti!" Mark yelled, waving his arm frantically.  
  
"Yes?" Matt asked cautiously.  
  
"Can you...can you bring Sean home?" Mark managed, looking absolutely crushed. Matt's chest ached very suddenly, and he clenched his fists.  
  
"I'll try" he promised. "Now get to the bunker"  
  
Mark, seeming satisfied, hurried after the rest of his classmates, glancing back only once, black eyes filled with worry.  
  
Matt took off again, hovering high above the campus and scanning the world around him. W's voice rang in his ears, a familiar phrase.  
  
 _"It's all gone to shit, Matter"_  
  
Matt glanced back at the city, wincing as another explosion rocked the campus.  
  
He wondered if Nate was okay. He'd been gone for days, and no amount of calls or texts had been able to reach him. As much as he hated to, Matt swallowed the nauseous feeling in his chest and forced himself to face the inevitable.  
  
"He's dead, you know" the voice in his mind whispered.  
  
Matt nodded bitterly, a lump in his throat and hot tears in his eyes.  
  
What kind of hero was he, anyway?  
  
Nate was dead, and he was certain Nightmare was, too. Both thanks to him. The _hero_.  
  
_"Stay where you are"_  
  
Wiping his eyes, Matt straightened and turned his gaze to the city, fire in his eyes.  
  
One life for a million. A small sacrifice, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all!


	27. Chapter 27

Septic was mad in every sense of the word.  
  
LA was burning. The air was thick with black smoke and white ash, hot breeze spreading the putrid scent of sulfur and burnt rubber. The streets glinted with bits of broken glass and streams of blood. And Septic was couldn't stop laughing.  
Finally.  
  
Finally, _finally_.  
  
He had what he deserved. A world at his fingertips.  
  
He remembered, at some point, that he'd wanted to be good. To help and to heal.  
  
What nonsense, really.  
  
The creature raised his hand to deliver another energy beam, ready to knock out a large office building.  
  
"Septic!"  
  
He didn't have to turn to know who the voice belonged to. Septic let out a low, nasty laugh, rotating slowly until his piercing green eyes were focused on that stupid hero, hovering a few feet on the air.  
  
"Hello, Matthew. Come to join the party?"  
  
"Here to crash it, I'm afraid" Matt shot back, landing gently and balling his fists. "Let Jack go. Mark misses him"  
  
Septic laughed again, examining his arms as if they were all too new to him. "I dunno, I'm beginning to like this body. I think I'll keep it, when this is all over"  
  
"When I'm done, there won't be enough of you left to inhabit a body!" Matt growled, tearing a chunk of concrete out of the street and forcing it to hover a few feet above the crazed villain.  
  
"Are you certain that's wise? I can't be hurt. You could kill your pathetic little friend" Septic reminded him.  
  
Tears burned in Matt's eyes.  
  
"If he's that last to die, so be it!" he nearly screaming, forcing the rock towards Septic with the force of a freight engine. Unfazed, the maniac simply sliced through the rock with a stream of green light before shooting up into the air.  
  
Matt ducked down, rolling away from the line of green that was melting through the pavement. Crouching down, he increased the density of the air above him, allowing it to serve as a shield. Septic's beam pelted down on him, white hot and toxic.  
  
As the fumes burned his eyes, Matthew stood up, still holding his air shield. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a dented truck. Using one hand to keep his shield up, he directed the truck at the floating monster with a flick of his hand.  
  
This time, Septic wasn't ready. His nasty grin faded, replied with a howl of pain as the truck crashed into his body. Matt winced at the sickening sound of metal scraping and glass shattering. A few moments later, the car crashed back down, half melted away and smelling of chemicals.  
  
"You're utterly pathetic!" Septic sneered. "And I don't have time for a goody two shoes like you" he continued, before grinning sickeningly. "But I know someone who might"  
Matt coughed, the bitter taste of chemicals burning his throat. But before he could retaliate, an immense pulse crashed into his body, sending him sprawling across the pavement and into the half melted truck.  
  
"Hello, Matter"  
  
Matt winced as he tried to stand. He felt as though he were inhaling nails. Wiping blood from his forehead, he turned towards the familiar voice.  
  
"Hey, Nightmare" he wheezed.  
  
The former villain was hardly recognizable. His clothes were filthy and slightly tattered. His blue hair was matted, and part of his neck was caked with blood. The paint around his eyes was smeared all across his face, but it did little to hide his sunken cheeks and eye sockets. Matt's stomach lurched as he realized Nightmare probably hadn't eaten well in weeks.  
  
"Ah, as weak and worthless as ever, I see" Nightmare cooed, letting out a merciless laugh the sent Matt right back to the ground. Gathering his strength, the hero transported himself to another derelict car, leaning heavily on the door.  
  
"I don't want to fight you" he said. "But I will"  
  
The car flew at Nightmare, who let out a sudden cry of panic. The pulse dented the car but did not stop it. Thinking quickly, Nightmare darted out of the way, turning to glare at AntiMatter with searing hatred in his eyes.  
  
The next scream sent Matt flying, and it was all he could do to grip the air and prevent himself from crashing to the ground. And still Nightmare advanced, grinning.  
Matt didn't fail to notice the limp in his walk or the jaggedness of his steps. He looked like a puppet about to collapse as soon as his strings were cut.  
  
He had to help him.  
  
As Matt struggled to his feet shakily, he heard Nightmare's voice, loud and mocking despite the distance between them. "Oh, don't bother getting up" Nightmare crooned. "You're going to die either way, so you might as well make it quick"  
  
"Better me than the rest of the world" Matt replied, clutching at his shoulder, only to realize it had been dislocated. He was exhausted.  
  
"Ever the hero, AntiMatter. Righteous until the end" Nightmare mused, bending down and seizing Anti's collar, bringing the hero's face close to his own. Matt could see the darkness in his eyes, and he felt his eyes burning again.  
  
Nightmare's grip shifted to his throat, crushing against his windpipe and lifting his into the air with frightening force. Matt gasped for air, kicking at nothing and desperately scrabbling at Nightmare.  
  
"You've never killed anyone...before" he choked.  
  
"Consider yourself the lucky first" Nightmare snapped, squeezing even tighter. Matt's vision started to blur, darkening at the edges like burning paper. To Nightmare's surprise, the hero started to laugh, a tortured, strained sound.  
  
"All things...considered...it'd be an honor to die at your hand" he managed, tears streaking down his face.  
  
Light flickered in Nightmare's eyes, and for a moment the world stopped.  
  
Nightmare was in there. The snarky, sweet super villain who wasn't much of a villain at all was still in there somewhere. Matt's chest surged with hope he hadn't felt in week, and with the last of his strength, he gathered all the energy around him into his fist and sent it flying into Nightmare's jaw.  
  
Matt hit the ground wheezing and coughing up more than a little blood. Nightmare had been thrown back by the pulse, and was now lying on the pavement, unmoving.  
  
"Oh, god"

* * *

_Nate felt himself stir._  
  
_He heard a voice, his voice._  
  
"Consider yourself the lucky first"  
  
_And he knew what he had to do._  
  
_Nathan Sharp had been afraid all his life. Afraid of his powers, afraid of his emotions, afraid of the world. He kept it inside him, crushed into his chest. It burned and stung, but he kept it inside, because no one had ever wanted Nathan Sharp._  
  
_He heard Matt's voice._  
  
_And the world shattered around him_.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this took forever to write and upload. Every technical problem that could have gone wrong did.
> 
> But, at long last, here it is! The epic finale!
> 
> I mean, I'd like to think it's epic...

"Nightmare! Jesus, please tell me you're not dead"  
  
Matt cradled the villain's head in his arms, checking his pulse. To his great relief, there was a faint but steady beat.  
  
"Oh, thank god. Nightmare? Mare, come on, wake up"  
  
Those dark eyes fluttered open, and Matt wanted to cry.  
  
"Anti?"  
  
"Oh my god, you're okay" Matt nearly sobbed, pulling Nightmare into a crushing hug, ignoring the pain. Nightmare winced, but returned the embrace. When they pulled apart, AntiMatter's eyes were absolutely shining.  
  
"Please don't cry. You know how emotions sicken me" Nightmare teased.  
  
Matt giggled through the tears. "I'm so glad you're safe"  
  
An explosion sounded in the distance.  
  
"Not yet, we're not" Nightmare said, wincing as AntiMatter helped him to stand. "And there's no way we can take him. We tried, remember"  
  
Matt chuckled, ignoring the confused glance from Nightmare. "Don't worry" he said, placing a finger to his earpiece. "We're gonna have company"  
  
The earpiece crackled.  
  
"I'd scold you, but I get the feeling you've been punished enough, you little shit!"  
  
Matt laughed. "Good to hear you again, sir"  
  
"Yeah, whatever" W grumbled, failing to hide the smile in his voice. "The dispatch is ready. Are you?"  
  
Matt grinned.  
  
"Send 'em in, sir"

* * *

"We're coming in hot, sir!"  
  
"Jesus, do you have to say that every time?"  
  
Phil pouted playfully. "It's fun!" he insisted defensively. Dan rolled his eyes and slouched back into his seat, unable to hide his affectionate smile.  
  
"Is now a bad time to say just kiss already?" Felix teased, lacing up his gloves. Marzia giggled, her form flickering slightly, and Signe only rolled her eyes.  
  
The small but serviceable jet was approaching its destination: the currently burning city of LA, where a crazed super villain with an assortment of destructive, toxic powers was wreaking havoc. The jet was carrying a small European team, who had just finished cleaning up after another super villain on their own continent.   
  
"Everyone ready?" Marzia asked, stepping towards the open hatch of the jet.  
  
"No fair!" Felix whined. "You don't even have to wear a parachute!"  
  
Marzia giggled, playfully punching her boyfriend's arm. "Sucker" she teased, ignoring the light hearted eye roll from Felix in response as she leapt out of the hatch before disappearing. A moment later, a small white dove landed on Felix's shoulder, nuzzling affectionately into his neck.  
  
"Stop it" he blushed, brushing the bird off.  
  
"Stop flirting. We've got a job to do" Signe reminded the team, locking the clasps of her utility medical belt.  
  
"Going in hot, sir" Phil stated over the earpiece, ignoring another eye roll from Dan.

* * *

Septic knew immediately when Nate was free from his control.  
  
He had vague recollections of breaking his bones, either on accident or as the result of horrific experimentation. It felt like that, only in his mind. He immediately ceased what he'd been doing to let out a blood curdling shriek of pain.  
  
He felt smaller.  
  
He  _was_ smaller.  
  
Fucking heroes.

* * *

"Sorry we're late" The tallest of the team said, extending a gloved hand in greeting. "Honor to work with you. I'm Fisticuffs. This is Aquarius, Inferno, Lucid, and Dr. Signe. She's our medic"  
  
Matt shook his hand, smiling grimly. "Anti. And the honor is mine, but there's no time for that. He'll be back any second now. We need to get that thing off his face. Whatever you do, don't make it lethal" he urged.  
  
Not too far into the distance, an explosion shook the ground, attracting the frightened and curious gazes of the team.  
  
"He's really nice when he's not infected by whatever that thing is" Matt added.  
  
"We'll follow your orders, AntiMatter" said Fisticuffs.  
  
Matt took a breath as he looked down the dingy street towards Septic's position. There was a sick feeling in his gut, gnawing and twisting within him. It took him a moment to realize it was nerves and adrenaline coursing through his veins.  
  
He took a breath.  
  
"Let's go"

* * *

Nearly three blocks away, all hell had broken loose in the most literal sense.

The streets were ripped to shreds, chunks of concrete lodged into cars, buildings, and dug into the ground. Everything was smoking faintly, green and chemical. The building's were stripped clean, glass littering the streets and the building framework jutting out into the street, all bent and corroded metal beams. Somehow, despite the late hour, there was a faint greenish glow pervading throughout the destroyed scene.

It was eerily quiet.

Nate was still shaken. He was regaining feeling in his limbs, and his vision was slowly clearing. His steps shaky, but they were _his_. As he looked over the ruins of his home, he felt a sick emptiness in his stomach. He had helped with this. He'd aided that _thing_ , and nearly killed one of the only people capable of cleaning up the mess. He felt his eyes burning and convinced himself it was only the chemicals.

"You okay?"

Nate turned, suddenly facing one of the European team members, wearing a thick rain jacket and goggles.

"Yeah" he managed, his own voice foreign and strange.

"Are you sure about that?" the other man asked, brown eyes creased with concern. A gloved hand came to rest on Nate's shoulder. The friendliness behind the touch startled Nate, and he shrugged it off, wrinkling his nose at the damp patch on his shoulder. His companion chuckled awkwardly.

"Sorry. Hydrokenesis. It happens" he admitted.

"Don't worry about it" Nate grumbled. The Hydro didn't seem terrifically keen on leaving, so he took a breath and put on his hardest face.

"Keep a secret?"

"Kind of our jobs, right?

"I'm the bad guy" Nate snapped. He felt bad almost immediately, but to his surprise the man didn't look upset. Instead, he smiled, revealing a single dimple to match Nate's.

"So was I" he replied cryptically. Nate frowned, but before he could inquire as to what the man meant, a voice interrupted.

"Where is he?" Marzia asked tentatively, her voice flickering along with her figure, occasionally partly dissolving to reveal part of the ruined city throat her chest or leg. 

Signe pushed her goggles back up, frowning. "He doesn't have a signature. I have no idea"

"Did we mention he can turn invisible?" Matt interjected.

Glass crunched beneath the team's feet, despite their best efforts to muffle the noise. The silence was all consuming. Every crack of glass or groan of the steadily failing building framework seemed a deafening roar. No one spoke, not wanting to bring the destruction or the destroyer upon themselves.

"When he's invisible, does he - ?"

The street several meters in front of the group exploded before Signe could finish. It happened so terrifyingly fast that there was no reacting in time. Bodies flew backward, the hot shock of the blast burning into their skin and sending them gagging with the onslaught of chemical odor. The gaping hole in the streets led down into the sewer system. The crumpled pipes were beginning to fizzle away as the corrosive chemicals ate away at the metal. Bits of the street had melted into a tar like substance, which was now bleeding down what was left of the ground. Hovering above the ground, cackling maniacally as blood poured from his hands, which were now cut and burned.

" _Top o' the morning to ya laddies_!" Septic screeched, his voice sending pulses across the yawning stretch of concrete.

Matt had barely been able to soften the fall, but to his relief the team hit the pavement with a light jolt and little more. As he struggled to his feet, he noticed Nightmare trying to pushing himself up on shaky arms. He darted over, hooking his arms under Nightmare's and helping him to stand. Out of the corner of his eye, his noticed Fisticuffs gently setting Lucid down, having grabbed her and used his own body as a shield when they'd gone flying.

"Signe! Take cover somewhere. Without you, we're good as dead" Aquarius barked. Signe nodded, darting away into the shadows.

"Thanks, mate" Inferno said, smiling cheerfully at Matt.

Matt shook his head, turning towards the remains of the explosion. "Don't thank me yet"

Another blast rocketed down the street. In an instant, Matt had his hands up, effectively creating an air shield for the rest of the team. At the same time, he noticed Lucid jump once and disappear. One moment later, an eagle came careening out of the sky towards Septic's head. Its beak crashed into the side of the eye, leaving a dent and a few exposed wires. Septic let out a bloodcurdling scream, throwing a wild punch that struck the eagle across the wing. It hurdled towards the ground, its form fizzling until Lucid hit the ground with a roll and righted herself, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

"This is going to be harder than I thought" she muttered. "Felix!"

As if they could read each other's minds, Fisticuffs was at Lucid's side in barely a moment, hands held in front of him as if he was holding a large tray or book. She stepped into his hands and was launched into the atmosphere. Fisticuffs then turned to Inferno. "Ferno! Go!"

"Right!" came the Northern accent, balling his fists and allowing them to ignite. An even larger bird suddenly came hurtling down. Matt and Nate watched in awe as the pyrotechnic shot both fireballs at the bird. Its wings ignited, and it swooped down towards Septic. He yelled in frustration, launching another toxic attack. The fumes ignited the bird's wings, and another explosion shook the streets as Septic was thrown backwards through the air and Lucid landed gracefully in Fisticuffs' waiting arms. They both glanced at Nate and Matt, who were still staring dumbly.

"You just gonna stand there, or what?" Fisticuffs asked.

Matt blinked, shaking himself. He grabbed Nightmare by the arm. "Look, you know about him better than the rest of us. What are his weaknesses?"

Nate bit his lip. "It's mostly mental. There's liked... a parasite in his head. Truth be told, I don't know if we can get it out without killing him"

"You're alright"

"I didn't have that thing on my face"

"Is Jack still in there?" Matt asked. Nightmare frowned, and nodded.

"Then we've got a shot. If we remove the eyepiece, Jack can take over again?"

Nightmare sighed. "I hope so"

"Me too. I have a promise to keep" Matt agreed, before jumping into the air. "Nightmare! Can you bring that wall down?" he asked, pointing towards a crumbling building. The villain nodded, turning and letting out a screech. The wall shook, dust spraying across the streets. In a matter of moments, the wall crumbled, forcing Septic, who had been making his way back towards the heroes, to veer out of the way and crash into another building. There was a loud crack as Jack's arm was dislocated, and he let out a scream. For another moment, he seemed almost dazed, clutching his head with his good hand.

"Jack?" Nate chanced.

Septic looked up, green eye flashing in the dark. " _Enough_!" he screamed, suddenly sending a toxic beam careening towards the team. Matt threw up his arms, forcing a shield up around everyone. The green sprayed against the invisible dome, spattering of to the sides and beginning to corrode various areas of the street. Matt's feet scraped against the pavement as the white hot force grated against his face and arms. He felt a hand at his back.

"I gotcha" Fisticuffs said, effortlessly holding Matt in place.

"Thanks. Can we push back? With enough force we might be able to take him down. But don't touch to field. I won't be able to hold it" he said. Fisticuffs nodded.

"We need pushback!" he yelled. "And don't touch the field!"

"Pushback? Shouldn't be a problem for you" Lucid said with a wink. Before her partner could retort, she leapt into the air again, form warping into an enormous creature with beady eyes and a jagged beak. Matt felt certain such a creature had not flown over earth in millions of years.

"What the fuck is that?" Aquarius yelped.

Fisticuffs shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. She's the shifter"

The creature began to beat its wings, creating a strong gust that began to propel the group forward in shaky steps. A loud call joined the gust, sending Nightmare's pulses against the field. Septic roared with anger, pushing back as best he could.

"Aqua and Ferno, distract him!"

"Already on it!" Inferno said. A stream of fire shot from his hands, launching him upward onto the roof of a nearby building. Fisticuffs let go of Matt, who stumbled slightly.

"Can you hold it? I'll be right back" he said, not waiting for an answer. Matt watched out of the corner of his eye as Fisticuffs approached the fire hydrant that Aquarius was waiting next to. With a single blow, the hydrant all but crumbled. With a deafening hiss, a dome of white water shot out, and Aquarius had it in an instant. Inferno's fire and the rush of water combined, sending a dense cloud of burning steam towards Septic. It made contact with his skin, and another bone chilling shriek shattered the air. With one last beat of Lucid's wings, Septic lost control and flew backwards with the force, hurtling toward the ground.

Summoning one last burst of strength, Matt created another pocket of air for Jack in a desperate attempt to soften the blow. Despite his efforts, the man still came to a bumpy, grinding halt and remained unmoving on the pavement.

* * *

_It hurts. God, it hurts._

_I can feel it. I can feel._

_I can do this._

* * *

The team approached Jack's body. As they got closer, he suddenly sat up with a howl. Matt had another shield up in an instant, but Septic didn't seem to notice. He clutched at his head, clawing at the eyepiece.

"No! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he growled, dragging his nails down his face, leaving bloody streaks.

Nate moved forward, but Matt grabbed his arm. "Hang on"

Septic let out another shriek, his good hand wrestling with the bad one, struggling to remove the eye. He was still muttering, his sounding raw in his throat.

All of a sudden, clear as day, Jack's voice echoed across the ruined city block.

" _YOU SHUT UP, YE BASTARD_!"

With various sickening sounds of ripping and crunching, he ripped the eyepiece from his face and threw it to the ground. At the same time, a final explosion shot from his body, accompanied by two triumphant words.

" _FUCK YOU_!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually can't believe how close this story is to being over. I'm a little sad to see it go.
> 
> Ack, can't get mushy yet. That's for the last chapter.
> 
> Also, almost 1900 hits. Holy fuck. I love you all so much


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Have I gone mad?
> 
> Clearly, I already am. I'm also making up for my accidental hiatus.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"  
  
Jack wheezed, blinking as white light sliced through his vision, obscured by a vaguely humanoid face framed with a halo of dirty blond hair. He was on a stretcher, being rolled very slowly.  
  
"Yes" he replied, his chest aching. The face smiled, coming slightly into focus. "I'm Dr. Signe, but most people call me Wiishu" she said softly. "What's your name?"  
  
"Sean" Jack murmured, feeling a sudden rush of joy at the thought he had a name.  
  
"Well, Sean, you're gonna be fine" Wiishu said softly, pushing some green hair out of her patient's eye with a cool, soft hand.

"I can't see out of this eye" Jack muttered, realizing nearly an entire half of his face was numb. Unbeknownst to him, he had more to worry about than numbness. His skin was peeling all around the area the eye had been, with deep gashes and rips where he'd wrenched it off. The area around the eye was nearly white, bruised blue, purple, and green. Aside from that, he was cut all over and covered in chemical and heat related burns. He was sleep deprived, and suffering malnutrition and severe dehydration. Signe wasn't entirely sure how he'd survived so long without help. Of course, he didn't need to know any of that. He'd figure it out after the shock wore off and he could feel the immense pain coursing through his veins.

"Just a couple scratches, Sean. You're strong. You'll be right as rain in a few weeks" Signe promised.

"I hate rain" the patient grumbled drowsily, beginning to slip into unconsciousness. Signe couldn't help but giggle, carefully loading the stretcher into the medical helicopter that had just arrived as Jack began to snore. Once he was safely in the hands of her medical team, she returned to the destroyed street. Police and various officials had flooded the area, along with various officials. The League was present, either in person or on a screen, discussing the precautions necessary to keep this from happening again.

"I wonder if the last League had this same discussion twenty years ago?" one of them muttered as Signe passed. The remark was met with uneasy chuckles.

"Is that the last of it?" came AntiMatter's voice. A hazmat group was collecting the crumpled remains of the aptly dubbed "Septiceye" for further research and study, despite Fisticuffs' eager offer to crush it. "The plans were destroyed in the explosion at the school. W's sent out an alert to have any copies turned in" he added, scratching at the bandages Signe had given him to help the chemical abrasions on his arms.

"Don't scratch" she scolded, making her way over to where Lucid was nursing her sprained ankle.

"Thanks, doc" he called. A slight pressure on his shoulder alerted him to Nightmare's presence. He turned, smiling faintly.

"Hey"

"Hi" Nightmare murmured awkwardly. Before Matt could reply, he continued very suddenly, his words jumbled and frantic. "Look, I'm sorry about everything. If something like this happens again, I might wreak even more havoc and actually kill you this time, and I couldn't live with myself. Besides - "

Matt cut off his rambles with a kiss, wrapping his arms around Nightmare and holding him as tight as he could. "Just shut up. I'm not used to you being so nice"

Nightmare scoffed playfully, pushing the hero away. "Don't get used to it. This is a one time deal, sweetheart" he assured him. "I'll be back to being a pain before you know it"

"Good to know" Matt grinned, pulling him in for another kiss. When they had parted again, he reached out and cupped Nightmare's jaw gently.

"You know, you don't have to be the bad guy" he whispered gently. "We could be partners. I know you've got it in you"

For a moment, Nate considered, his black eyes flickering back over the destruction. A small smile formed on his face, followed by a sudden, mirthless laugh.

"Nice try. I'm no hero" he insisted.

Matt sighed. "In that case, I'm required to arrest you" he said.

"Think again, Matter" Nightmare teased, suddenly beginning to hum softly.

When Matt's vision cleared, Nightmare was gone. He sighed.

"He'll come around"

Matt jumped, realizing the voice belonged to Aquarius. "How do you know?" he asked.

"I did" Aquarius said with a wink, taking Inferno's hand as he passed, leaving Matt standing confused. The European team was loading back into their helicopter, save Dr. Signe, who had decided to stay until Jack was in a more stable condition.

" _A djö_, AntiMatter" Fisticuffs said with a flourish. "Good luck!"

The door to the copter closed, and the wind began to pick up as the aircraft began to rise. Matt hurried back, watching as the craft made its way up before disappearing into the sky, which was slowly fading to orange as the sun began to rise. 

His earpiece crackled, and he answered.

"He's home, sir" Matt said softly.

* * *

Nate had been doing a lot more thinking than usual.

He didn't recall much of the past several weeks. Mostly feelings, and images. Nothing coherent remained. He had a nagging feeling he'd lost something very important, but whenever he got close to the answer, it slipped further away.

He tried not to let it bother him.

Matt had never been happier, and Nate hoped that was in small part thanks to him.

The night of the battle, he'd arrived to an empty dorm. The campus alarm had been stopped, and people were making their way back to their dorms, dazed and sleepy. He had no trouble blending in with the rest of the crowd, keeping his hood up to avoid anyone noticing his makeup and wig. Exhausted, he reached his dorm and washed the grime off his face, taking great care to hide all evidence of the event with a long sleeves top and pants. Unable to eat anything despite his ravenous hunger, he collapsed on his bunk and fell asleep almost instantly.

For once, his dreams were normal.

He awoke to Matt's arms around him and his lips on his. Many minutes of kissing and hugging and crying passed, with Matt apologizing again and again and Nate assuring him he was alright. His roommate was so happy to see him that he bought his "walked home in a daze after the heroes took down Septic" story. In fact, Matt barely listened at all. Instead, he forced him to eat and refused to let him out of his arms all night.

"So, can we go steady?" he'd asked.

Matt laughed. "You know I'll say yes to anything you ask, right?"

"Yep. That's why I asked"

That was a little over a week ago. Now, he was lying awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the soothing sound of Matt's steady breathing. He hadn't committed crimes since then. Something was missing, and yet somewhere within him, he knew a robbery wouldn't fix it.

Matt had to know eventually.

They both did.

_"You know, you don't have to be the bad guy"_

Nate sighed, closing his eyes.

He'd tell them.

* * *

It was raining again, as was typical of any LA winter.

At the begrudging permission of Dr. Signe, Jack and the crew were crammed into his hospital dorm playing round after round of Smash Bros.

"Fuck!" Mark yelled, slamming his controller down as Jack's character kicked him of the arena platform. Jack only giggled.

"Pretty good for a guy with only one good eye" he joked, gesturing to the heavy bandage across his eye, which Dr. Signe had informed him was healing nicely. It seemed, however, that that eye would always have a pale green tint, noticeable only in bright light. Jack, naturally, had not minded in the least.

"Yeah, shut up" Mark grumbled playfully, unable to hide his own laughter.

Nate was sitting in one of the vinyl chairs, ignoring the uncomfortable crinkling every time he shifted even a little bit. Nate was in the chair next to him, slowly rubbing his thumb across Matt's knuckles. They sat in silence. There wasn't much to be said, after all.

The door opened, and Dr. Signe walked in. "That's enough, hooligans. He'll never get better at this rate" she scolded, switching off the small hospital TV. Everyone groaned good naturedly, preparing to leave. Mark gathered his things and pulled Jack in for a tight hug before leaving with a warm goodbye. Things were different between them now, although they were arguably closer than ever before.

Matt shouldered his backpack and made his way out of the suite, taking Nate with him. The got into the next elevator, empty due to the late hour.

Nate took a deep breath, clenching his fists.

"Nate? You okay?" Matt asked gently. His boyfriend nodded, turning to face him with a queer look in his eye.

"There's something I have to tell you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll put the epilogue up in a bit. I've got to compile my Thank Yous


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are

"What do you want, you piece of shit?"

Matt sighed, rubbing his head. "Good evening, Professor. How are you?"

"Just fine, no thanks to you!" the voice replied, with playful gruffness. "Now what do you want?"

"I have a request. I might need to take it before the League" Matt admitted.

"Oh, Jesus. Proceed" W groaned.

"I'd like to apply for a partnership"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! Yes, I've got a candidate in mind. I'd like it to be an open partnership"

"Those are a little harder to get, Matthew, but given your record, I think you'll be able to do it"

"I'm flattered, sir"

"Don't let it go to your head. Who did you have in mind?"

Matt glanced down at his hand, admiring the silver band encircling his ring finger as it glimmered in the light of his dorm. "Someone very close, sir"

* * *

_"Dreamcatcher is stupid as fuck!"_  
  
_"I think it's cute!"_  
  
_"It's dumb"_  
  
_"It'll fit you just fine, then"_

* * *

**Confidential Persons Files**  
  
**Subject 67T-S**  
  
**Subject is considered a danger to the average person**  
  
**ENGAGE WITH CAUTION**  
  
**Name: Nathan "Nate" Sharp**  
  
**Alias: Nightsong**  
  
**Enhancements: Ability to create supersonic waves and mild hypnosis via voice**  
  
**Hair: Black**  
  
**Eyes: Brown**  
  
**Height: 6'**  
  
**Weight: 132lbs**  
  
**Notable Characteristics: Dimples**  
  
**Costume: Black w/ blue accents, face paint, deep blue wig**  
  
**Crimes: Pardoned as of April 20XX (see file 67C-P)**  
  
**Threat level: 5**  
  
**Additional comments: Subject is the first of his kind: a villain turned hero. Is in a relationship w/ partner Matthew "Matt" Patrick, AKA AntiMatter (see file 13S)**  
  
**Allies: AntiMatter, Professor W, Aquarius**  
  
**Enemies: N/A**  
  
_"What d'you think?"_  
  
_"I'll admit it's not bad. Though maybe we should have gone with Dreamcatcher..."_  
  
_"Just stop. I love you, but stop"_

_"I love you, too"_  
  
**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I had to end with an "I love you". What can I say? My babies have earned it.
> 
> Okay, time to get mushy. Skip to the end for actually important info.
> 
> First of all, thank you to everyone who read this story, whether it was all today or you've been keeping up with me for months. Either way, your support is absolutely priceless.
> 
> Special thanks to @candied_galaxies, @StarWolf802, and anyone else who commented to show support. It's actually such a joy to hear from you guys.
> 
> It's been so much fun to work on this story, and I've had the pleasure of watching such a small fandom grow before my eyes. I hope this fic, along with all the other very talented ones on the site, inspires anyone looking to write to put themselves out there. It's always exciting to see a new author or fic.
> 
> Lastly, let me know if you guys want more! I had a blast creating this AU, and I'd love to write some fun oneshots. Hell, I'll take requests.
> 
> Thanks for everything. Until next time, nerds! :)


End file.
